Home Again
by beyond-obsessionn
Summary: Age of Ultron AU: After the fight in the shipyard, the Avengers are forced to take refuge at an isolated farmhouse. But the family that lives there has mixed feelings at being reunited with one of the team.
1. Retreat

The jet was headed due west, as far away from South Africa as possible. With stealth mode activated, Clint was certain there was no way Ultron or the Wonder Twins could be tracking them. Nevertheless, he wanted to get out of the sky and off radar as soon as possible. He checked the gauges again to make sure they weren't being followed.

The silence in the cabin was deafening. Experiencing the mind control powers of Wanda Maximoff was too much for the team to deal with at the moment. The only sounds were the hum of the engines and Bruce's sharp, measured breathing. At this rate, they would reach Rio before anybody said anything.

After a few more minutes, Clint broke the silence.

"We need to figure out where we're going," he said quietly.

There was no response. He glanced around after a moment and looked at the faces of his companions. Every one of them was too busy reliving the visions Maximoff conjured to pay him any attention.

Clint sighed silently and turned back around. He knew only too well what they had just experienced, and was grateful that nobody had been taken over so completely as he had been by Loki. They deserved some time alone with their thoughts.

Off in his own corner, Bruce tried _not_ to relive the past few hours, or days. As much as the others might thank him for turning into the other guy, Bruce never liked doing it. There was always a trail of destruction, and a trail of bodies, that was left in his wake. Thor could congratulate him all he liked, but Bruce knew he was never meant to be a warrior.

For a brief moment, Bruce allowed himself to reminisce about the days before the experiment went awry. He had such a good life then. He had his work, his friends, _his family_ …

"I know where we can go," Bruce suddenly said, his words filling the air. The others were jarred out of their reveries by this unexpected outburst. He instantly regretted speaking.

 _What if they don't want to see me?_ Bruce thought. _I wouldn't blame them; I'd be putting them in danger just by being there. It's best if we avoid them altogether. The farmhouse should be empty, though. It's too early in the year for them to be at the farm…_

"So where am I heading?" Clint asked.

Though Clint kept his gaze forward, Bruce could feel the eyes of the others boring into his back as he walked up to stand behind the pilot's seat.

"Head to Ohio. There's a farm just outside of…" Bruce trailed off as he thought of his hometown.

At this Clint looked over his shoulder at Bruce's face. Something he saw made his brow furrow, but he didn't comment. Instead, he adjusted their course to head northwest.

"I know where you mean. We'll be there by morning," Clint replied.

As he returned to his corner, Bruce glanced up and caught Natasha's eye. Being his recruiter and a member of SHIELD, she also knew where it was there they were going. She raised an eyebrow at him, wordlessly asking if he was sure about this.

Bruce wasn't sure, not at all. So in response, he shrugged one shoulder and sat down. His head gently thudded against the metal wall as he leaned against it. If Natasha thought to question this decision, there was a reason behind it. After all, she had likely seen his family more recently than he had. _So they are at the farmhouse,_ he thought to himself. _What would they think about me showing up out of the blue? Alongside the rest of these people?_ Bruce moved a hand to set on his suddenly sour stomach.

Thinking about his family was one of the tricks he used to lower his heart rate and keep the other guy from coming out. This time, though, thinking about them made his heart beat a little too fast. The adrenaline being released into his bloodstream was building up, so Bruce closed his eyes and held his breath to calm down.

 _One, two, …_ He didn't want to change again. _Five, six, seven, …_ Once a year used to be his limit, or rather his goal; now he was just trying to cut back to once a day. _Sixteen, seventeen, …_ Being part of the Avengers made life both easier and harder all at the same time. _Twenty-four, twenty-five, …_ On one hand, he had a team to work with, a lab to conduct any kind of research projects he wanted, and safeguards in place in case he unexpectedly turned green. _Thirty-six, thirty-seven, …_ But the safeguards didn't work – Johannesburg proved that. They'd be cleaning up his mess for weeks. _Forty-eight, forty-nine, …_ As for the team, there were times he just wanted to run off and be on his own. _Fifty-four, fifty-five, …_ Alone was safer. For everyone _. Fifty-nine, sixty._

After reaching sixty, Bruce swiftly let out the breath he had been holding through his nose. Then he slowly breathed in and repeated the process. Inhale, count to sixty, exhale. Inhale, count to sixty, exhale.

Within six hours, he would see his family again.


	2. Reunited

**A/N:** I got the idea for this AU after watching Age of Ultron. I thought it was fantastic that Hawkeye got to have a life outside of SHIELD, though it made me sad to think none of the other Avengers had that chance. Then I thought, what if they did? What if Bruce did have a family before he became the Hulk? This fic deviates a bit from canon, though I will do my best to stay true to the spirit of the characters. Also, big thanks to my beta Pigeon, who helps fix plot holes and is a terrific tour guide. Enjoy!

* * *

Clint landed in the clearing outside of the front of the farmhouse. The jet eased onto the grass and sunk down, the weight of the ship digging deep into the earth. The house was pale yellow, with forest green shutters. An American flag hanging on the porch rippled in the gale caused by the jet's exhaust. It looked peaceful and undisturbed, just like the last time Clint was here. He noticed the tire swing to the left of the house was still hanging. It seemed the double bowline had held up.

"Well, we're here," he said, flipping a few switches before spinning his seat around. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a woman open the front door of the house and step out onto the porch. His words brought the rest of the people in the cabin back to life. Though everyone was still exhausted from the fight and the long flight, they were also curious as to where they had landed.

Bruce stood up and nervously rubbed his hands together before walking to stand at the rear of the jet. He straightened his coat and went to clean his glasses before realizing they weren't there. His hands fell uselessly to his sides.

"If you don't mind," Bruce began slowly, "I think I should go first, alone. They're not exactly expecting company." Though Natasha and Clint nodded silently, the other three exchanged glances. Tony was the one who spoke up.

"So we'll just sit and wait here for you to say hi to…" He trailed off at the end of his sentence, fully expecting Bruce to fill in the blank. But Bruce paused, not sure how the others would take his news.

"My wife."

* * *

Abigail Banner stood at the counter in her kitchen, listening to the sounds of her children laughing at the Saturday morning cartoons. She smiled to herself. Saturdays were the best days, because she got to spend the entire day with her family and not worry about work or bills or anything of the like. Once the coffee pot was full, she grabbed a blue glass mug from the cupboard and poured herself a cup. After taking the first sip, she walked over to the sink to look out the kitchen window.

The window itself was open in the hopes of catching a breeze. The curtains would puff out every now and then to show it was working. This was her morning ritual: kiss kids, make coffee, admire the trees, and begin the day. At this time of year the trees were just beginning to bloom, with pale petals that dotted the branches and danced in the wind. Some of the petals had already been plucked from their trees and were scattered across the grass.

A low noise caught Abigail's attention and brought her eyes to the sky. Not too far away she could see the jet. She felt tension creep into her shoulders as she clinked the mug onto the counter to the right of the sink. SHIELD again. Or was it? The jet had the same markings as the last one that landed here. But SHIELD had been dismantled thanks to Captain America and company, so there wasn't supposed to be anything leftover.

She remembered when that news broke. Everyone at the university she taught at had been frantic to scour the formerly classified files, though she was wary of what she might find. Even her kids took the opportunity to look up information about their father, since they knew so little and SHIELD knew so much, and it was only a week or so later that she found out they had been keeping their research project a secret from her. That's when she instituted the No Lies policy in the house. Abigail was the only parent her children had, and she wanted them to feel safe telling her anything.

Of course, that policy bit her in the butt. She had been coerced into telling the kids everything she knew and remembered about Bruce. They knew the basics, like how they knew each other for years and when they finally got married. But she had to tell them what it was like when he changed and how scared she had been, and how she doubted he would ever return. She had kept them in the dark to protect them, but No Lies meant no lies.

The jet took its time landing on the uneven terrain, and the flag flapped loudly from the air being streamed at the house. Classic SHIELD, ever cautious about their own equipment but not the citizens they were supposed to protect. They were part of the reason she had left California. Between them and the reporters, neither she nor the children could get any peace. Abigail had thought that moving back to Ohio would cut back on unwelcome visitors, and it did, but SHIELD was like a bad penny that just kept showing up. As the jet settled in the lawn, she shrugged off her robe and exchanged it for the sweater that had been draped over one of the kitchen chairs. Then she took a deep breath and went to meet their guests.

As she walked past the doorway to the living room, she glanced at her children. They were absorbed in the cartoons and their books, despite the noise from the turbines, so she kept walking until she was standing outside on the porch. The flag was becoming still again since the engines were whirring to a stop. Abigail stood her ground at the edge of the porch, standing right against the railing. She never let the agents in her house if she had any choice. It was a place for family and safety, not to be poisoned by the government's lackeys.

She stood there watching the jet for a few minutes, not remotely surprised that they took so long to finally open the rear ramp and have one of the agents walk out to see her. SHIELD, or whatever it was now, wasn't exactly known for its courtesy. As the man made his slow descent up the slightly sloped yard, Abigail took in his appearance. He wasn't Coulson or Barton; this man had longer hair. He didn't even have the bearing of an agent; his shoulders were hunched with his hands dug deep in his pockets. He kind of reminded her of…

Abigail grasped the wooden railing for support. Could it be him? Her breath was coming in gasps now. It had to be him – the curly hair, the slouching back, just the spirit of this man was the same as her husband's. When he finally was near enough for her to make out his face, she whispered his name. _Bruce._

Bruce finally looked up at her. His face was pale and lined with exhaustion, but his eyes were as alive as she had ever seen them. For a moment, she forgot about her anger and feelings of abandonment. Bruce was finally home.

* * *

Bruce left them all gaping after him as he walked down the ramp. For once, Tony had been speechless. But Steve and Thor had tried to pry more information out of him before he could even hit the switch to make the ramp descend. In the hubbub, Clint whistled loudly and made them silent.

"You can nag him later. Right now Mrs. Banner is standing on the porch giving us the death stare, so maybe he should go out and let her know we're not SHIELD pestering her again." Clint nodded at Bruce to go, but Bruce latched onto something Clint just said.

"Again? Pestering her _again_?" Bruce felt his hands shaking, and clenched them to regain control. "SHIELD was supposed to stay away from my family, not harass them. They didn't know where I was, you know that!"

Natasha took a few steps closer to Bruce, calmly saying, "I know, but at first we had to verify they knew nothing. After that, it was just checking up to make sure they were alright."

Bruce was still angry, as always, but he fought to regain some of his composure. "When I agreed to join the Avengers, part of the deal was that my family stayed out of this. No records, no contact, nothing. Why would you violate that agreement?"

"Because," Natasha explained quietly, "She contacted us. One of the kids was sick and she wanted the best treatment. He's fine now," she added quickly, seeing the concern on Bruce's face, "but that's the only reason we kept in touch."

Bruce sighed heavily and closed his eyes. _You're a doctor, and your son got sick because you weren't there to help him. Poor Michael. And poor Abigail, for reaching out to people she had to despise by now because she had no other choice._

Without a word Bruce flicked the ramp switch and jammed his fists, still trembling, into his pockets. It wouldn't do to have Abigail think he was about to change into the other guy. The ramp lowered painfully slowly, and Bruce did his best to tune out the others chattering behind him.

Though it happened many years ago, he could picture her lying on the ground, crawling away from him in terror as he transformed into the Hulk. No, it wouldn't do to have her remember that at their reunion.

Once the ramp was just a foot above the ground, Bruce quickly made his way down it. What was he going to say? He kept his head ducked and his eyes on the ground in front of him to avoid gopher holes, periodically glancing up to watch her. He knew the moment she recognized him, because she went from glaring with her hands on her hips to gripping the railing to keep from falling over.

When he was just a few feet from the bottom step, he heard her say his name. It was nothing more than the faintest whisper, but it filled his heart completely. He looked up into his wife's face. She had barely changed; there were a few more worry lines at her brow and a few more laugh lines around her mouth, but her eyes were as clear and as blue as the day they married.

"Abbey," he said.

Bruce felt winded, as if all the air had suddenly been sucked from his lungs. Her name was a song in his mouth. It brought back so many memories from their past, and Bruce was unable to speak for a moment. Abigail's face changed in that moment, expressing confusion one moment and anger the next, finally settling on surprise. On an impulse she stumbled down the stairs and wrapped her arms around him.

"You're back. You're really back," she mumbled in his ear.

He pulled her as close as he could, breathing in the smell of her hair, feeling the curve of her back. His hands were shaking, but all the rage was gone. He couldn't believe he was back, and that she was here in his arms. The only thing that could make this moment any more perfect was –

"The kids!" Abigail gasped, pulling back from their embrace.

Bruce was reluctant to part their bodies, so he kept one hand on her back and the other on her face. But her expression had changed again, and this time she looked worried. Bruce's heart skipped a beat.

"What about the kids? What's wrong, Abbey?" he asked, scared that something had happened to them in his absence. She blinked a few times and shook her head to clear it.

"They're fine, Bruce. They're all well, but –" Bruce pulled her into another hug.

In that split second his mind had envisioned all the ways they could have been hurt, and there was no end to the horrors he had seen while traveling the world as a doctor.

 _They're fine. Michael should be ten now, and Sophie turning seven. They're older, but they're fine. Maybe they won't recognize me… Maybe that's why she's worried._

"You think they won't remember me. Is that it?" Bruce let Abigail go again so she could speak. She put both hands on his chest and felt his heartbeat for a few moments.

"They will recognize you, but you might not recognize them," she explained. Abigail took a deep breath and continued. "After you left, I made sure they would always have pictures and videos of you so that if – so that _when_ you came back, they would know you as their father. But Michael is so tall now; he's not a little boy anymore. And Sophie's hair is even blonder than when she was a baby. And –"

Bruce chuckled lightly and took Abigail's face in both hands. "You really think a few years would make me forget the faces of my children?" She half smiled, and got an impish look in her eyes that he had almost forgotten about.

"You can't recognize someone you've never met."


	3. And It Feels So Good

Abigail was trying to communicate something important to Bruce, but he kept interrupting her with his reactions. That was something she had loved about him; how he responded to everything with such passion. But right now, he needed to shut up so she could explain. The only way to do that was to drop it on him like an anvil.

"You can't recognize someone you've never met."

The effect of these words was immediate. Bruce was stunned into silence. But his heart was starting to do double-time under her hands, and it was either because he was about to have a heart attack or turn green. The thought of either thing happening made her next words sound urgent and rushed.

"It was just before that experiment. Before, not after! He was born in April, and the gamma accident was only eight months before that." Bruce's heart slowed slightly, so Abigail kept talking. "I think it was the fourth of July. Do you remember that night? We went to the party, drank too much wine, and stayed up all night watching fireworks." During this speech Bruce's gaze had been unfocused, staring off in the distance, but he finally met her eyes.

There was a change between them just then. Abigail felt it in the pit of her stomach. She shouldn't have to apologize or explain herself; he should have already known about their third child. She took a step back, not realizing the porch steps were right behind her. When her ankle hit the edge of the bottom step, she lost her balance and plopped backwards onto the top step. Bruce still looked dazed, but there was hurt and anger in his eyes as well.

"We have another son, and you never –" he started to say, anger building up with each word. Abigail's temper flared in response. What right did he have to question her actions?

"No, Bruce. _You_ never. You never even checked up on us _once_ in the time you've been gone. If you did, you would know all about Owen. But in five years, you never thought or even bothered to contact us. _Five years_. How could you be so callous? We're your family, for God's sake! Even if you reached out to one of our friends you would have known! So don't try to blame your ignorance on me. Don't you dare," she said, her voice cracking at the end as hot, angry tears spilled from her eyes.

Bruce didn't immediately respond. He took in her words, and her tears, before he finally said, "You're right, Abbey. It is my fault. And I – I am so sorry."

He hesitated for a beat before sitting next to her on the porch. He caressed the back of her right hand with his fingertips as they sat together, and Abigail used her left to wipe the tears off her face.

This was not how she expected their reunion to go.

* * *

Bruce focused all his energy on not turning into the other guy. He had another son. Another child. And he missed out on being there when the baby was born. The days his other two kids were born were the best days of his life; after months of waiting and wondering what each child would look like, or rather _who_ they would look like, Bruce could never describe or compare the feeling of finally cradling his child in his arms for the first time. But he never got to feel that for this new child. If he had only known… The feeling of betrayal overwhelmed him.

"We have another son, and you never –"

"No, Bruce. _You_ never. You never even checked up on us _once_ in the time you've been gone," Abigail said. Bruce was struck with the truth of this statement. "If you did, you would know all about Owen. But in five years, you never…"

The rest of her words were lost to him. _Owen_ , he thought. _She named our son Owen._ When they had found out she was pregnant the first time, they were so surprised and excited that they didn't know what to do. New parents never do. So they bought all the parenting books they found and a ridiculous number of baby name books as well.

Picking a name for their first child took until the moment he was born. They had narrowed it down to Michael and Owen, but didn't want to settle on either for sure until they met the baby. When he was handed to them, red-faced and squalling, they instantly agreed he would be named Michael. Choosing a name for Sophie went the same way.

To think that Abigail went through this last pregnancy all alone, with two other kids to raise and no notion of when – or even _if_ – her husband would come back… Bruce felt shamed. Even with his unstable condition, he should have been there to pick up the slack; to watch the other children while she slept; to rub her back when the baby started making it ache; to hold Owen when she was worn out from giving birth. Nothing would have kept him away if he had just known.

Bruce looked at her face and saw how the last few minutes had made her look so suddenly tired. Though she was a silent crier, he could hear the unvoiced sobs that made her chest heave. He sighed as a fresh wave of shame rushed over him. He should have been here for them.

"You're right, Abbey. It is my fault. And I – I am so sorry."

Bruce wanted to hold her in his arms again and apologize over and over for leaving her alone. He wanted to explain it was fear that had kept him away; fear of hurting them, and fear of others hurting them because of him. But she was angry, and Bruce wasn't sure that she wanted his comfort right then. So he settled for sitting beside her on the porch, as close as he dared, and stroking her hand. Gently, though, so she wouldn't pull away.

This was not how he expected their reunion to go. Granted, he didn't have any actual expectations beforehand, but he definitely wouldn't have guessed things would have gone down like this. He wanted to change the past and make up for leaving. He wanted to kiss Abigail until she stopped crying, and then kiss her some more. He wanted to hold his children, and meet his new son. Unfortunately, only one of those options seemed feasible at the moment.

Abigail slowly stood up, using both hands to wipe her face and then smooth her hair. She took a deep breath and looked at Bruce. He stayed sitting, not sure what would happen next. She held out a hand to him and gave a little smile.

"Are you ready to see the kids?" she asked.

Oh, was he ready. He hesitantly returned her smile and took her hand. He stood up, keeping hold of her hand, and looked into her eyes. They might not be alright right now, but Abigail was not the vindictive type of person who would try to keep the kids away out of spite. She knew how much they meant to him and, he hoped, how much he meant to them.

Abigail turned her head and shouted into the house, "Kids, you can come out now!"

The screen door instantly crashed open and two blurred figures slammed into Bruce, almost knocking him down. He fought for balance while crushing the children to his chest. His children. They both tried to talk to him, but their voices were so thick with crying that he didn't understand a word of what they said. It didn't matter though, because he could feel what they were saying. _I missed you. I love you. Stay with me._

They were the same words he was trying to say to them, but he was so overcome by emotion that he practically collapsed onto the porch, pulling the children with him. They were a mess of tears and hugs and love. This was one thing Bruce had pictured all those times when he needed to not change. This homecoming was exactly what he had dreamed about. But now there was something missing. Bruce turned and looked through the screen door expectantly.

Standing there was a little boy, no more than four years old. He had light brown hair like his mother, but the eyes were exactly like his father's. Those eyes held Bruce's gaze as Bruce struggled to stand up, arms still wrapped around the other children. He gave each of them a kiss and they went to Abigail and hugged her as everyone watched what happened next.

Bruce walked up to the screen door but didn't open it. Instead, he crouched down in front of it, allowing it to be a barrier between him and his son. He was struck again by the boy's eyes. They held so many emotions for someone so young; but then Abigail was always commenting that Bruce's eyes were windows to his true feelings. His son must have inherited that trait. Bruce swallowed a few times, trying to move the lump in his throat.

"Hi, Owen," he said. That's all he could manage before his throat closed up again.

 _He looks like an Owen. Abigail definitely got his name right._ Bruce wanted to say something more, but wasn't sure what he would say even if he could. Owen's eyes darted from Bruce to Abigail. He looked so unsure. Bruce's heart broke a little.

 _My son shouldn't feel so nervous around me. If I had just been here for them, he would know how much I love him._

Slowly, so slowly, the boy pushed the screen door just wide enough to slip through sideways. Bruce didn't move a muscle. Owen stood there looking at him for another minute, taking in everything from his head to his toes.

Owen took a tiny step towards Bruce. Then another. Then another. When he was within arm's reach, the boy stretched out a hand but withdrew it quickly. Bruce nodded and whispered, "It's okay." Owen reached out again and placed his hand lightly on the side of his father's face.

 _His hand is so warm_ , Bruce thought. Owen reached out his other hand and placed it on the other cheek. Then his brow furrowed, which surprised Bruce. He leaned in close and studied Bruce's eyes.

"You have my eyes," Owen said. Bruce nodded. He might not have heard the child's actual first words, but these would have to count. Owen then wrapped his arms around Bruce's neck and Bruce hugged him back.

 _Michael was only a little bigger than this the last time I held him._ The thought made Bruce hold his son tighter.

He had a lot to make up for, and he fully intended to make it all up.


	4. Eavesdropping

The moment Bruce stepped off the ramp, Tony rushed to the cockpit to look out the window. Steve and Thor came up behind him, which forced Clint to move out of their way to make room. The woman was definitely giving them the death glare. Tony's brief moment of speechlessness caused by Bruce's impromptu announcement was over.

"So that's Banner's wife. Huh. I would've expected someone shorter and less… angry. She could probably take on Jolly Green and win."

Tony knew he was starting to ramble, but that was how he processed things. Something doesn't sound right? Keep talking until it does. He glanced over at Clint and Natasha. They were standing together, speaking quietly.

"Hey, you two over there. Stop conspiring and join our eavesdropping on the Banner family reunion."

They glanced at him and then ignored him completely, resuming their hushed conversation. Tony turned back to the window. Bruce was getting closer to the porch.

"She doesn't know it's him yet. I'm betting she's going to drop when she figures that out." The three of them watched as the woman suddenly changed from angry to almost collapsing. "Oh, she caught the hand rail. Well, she would have dropped, so that counts for… something." Tony trailed off. The couple stood watching one another for a moment before the woman threw her arms around Bruce's neck.

Tony thought about Pepper. After Pepper had stopped the Mandarin's regeneration with quick thinking and that convenient combustible capsule, they had held each other much in the same way. He knew what it was like to hold someone you thought you lost forever. He still occasionally had nightmares about Pepper falling and being left alone. So for the second time that day, Tony fell silent.

He couldn't imagine life without her. And he couldn't imagine how Bruce could turn his back on a wife he clearly loved.

 _Natasha said something about one of his kids being sick,_ Tony thought. _So he turned his back on a wife_ _and_ _kids to keep from hurting them._

Right then, Tony resolved to figure out a way to cure or at least treat Bruce's condition. When Bruce first moved into Stark tower after the battle of New York, it seemed that he was going to put his efforts into researching a cure by himself. But after the serum that slowed heart rates failed to keep him from hulking out, he apparently gave up and turned to other projects.

Tony knew that with his help, Bruce would be able to investigate new avenues he hadn't considered before. But what "help" would he really be?

 _The last time I tried to help out, "murder-bot" Ultron was the result. It's entirely possible I would just make things worse for Bruce. He already has control over it – my interference could make him go green and never come back._

Tony huffed in frustration. Not everything he created was bad; he thought up the arc reactor – a clean, renewable energy source that could potentially replace the earth-polluting burning of fossil fuels. And he founded the Stark Relief Foundation, which cleaned up disasters both natural and Avengers-made. He was capable of creating good things for the world, and the least he could do was _offer_ Bruce his help. Tony just hoped that something would finally work and not backfire in his face.

* * *

Steve watched Bruce and his wife embrace one another. Though he never would have guessed that Bruce even _had_ a wife, Steve was glad he had a family to come home to. He thought back to the vision he had seen, of finally dancing with Peggy. It pained him to think of her, of what could and should have been.

This is what Steve had wanted all his life: a loving wife, children, a home. Maybe not a farmhouse – he had too much Brooklyn in his blood – but they could have taken summer trips to the countryside. If he hadn't been frozen for all those years, it probably would have happened between him and Peggy.

Steve was willing to bet that it would have happened even if the super soldier serum didn't work and he never became Captain America. Peggy had been one of the few people that saw past the scrawny, sickly shell that Steve sometimes felt trapped in. She saw him for who he was inside, and would have given him a chance as he was.

Steve's musings were interrupted by sudden movement on the porch. Bruce's wife was sitting on the steps, and it looked like she was crying. He couldn't be sure from this distance, but his theory was confirmed when Bruce sat next to her and she wiped her eyes.

 _Things must not be going so well,_ he thought. _After such a long time apart, there are bound to be problems they need to sort out together._ Steve realized he didn't even know how long it had been since they saw one another.

"How long has Bruce been gone?" he asked, turning his head towards Natasha and Clint.

They had their backs to him, and were standing even closer than when Tony said something. Natasha was holding a hand to her ear, as if she were receiving a message through her earpiece.

"Five years, give or take a few months," she said distractedly. She didn't even look in his direction, and that made Steve suspicious. Thor picked up on it too.

"Why are you two not interested in what transpires between Banner and his wife? Is there a message from Ultron we are not picking up?" he asked, tightening his grip on his hammer.

Tony, who had been leaning by the window without really looking through it, snapped his head up at the mention of Ultron.

"What does he have to say? Is he tracking us? That's impossible, unless he somehow bugged us while we were hypnotized by that witch –" Tony was becoming more and more worried by the second, but Clint interrupted.

"We're not listening to Ultron, we're listening to Bruce. I pointed the listening equipment on the jet at them and patched the feed through here," he said, tapping his earpiece. "We've been listening since you three are hogging the view."

Steve felt that was crossing a line. Watching them was bad enough, but overhearing things that were supposed to be private was more than he was comfortable with. Natasha must have guessed what was going through his mind, because she said,

"Don't look like that, Steve. We're making sure nothing happens to overly upset Bruce. This is a high-stress situation, and we just want to make sure that nothing pushes him over the edge."

When put like that, it made sense that they were listening in. Of course, that was the intended effect of her speech – to placate Steve into agreeing with their questionable tactics. He still felt that listening in on Bruce and his wife was wrong. He was about to say as much when the screen door on the front porch opened with a loud bang.

* * *

Tony and Steve had stepped away from the window when they started talking to Natasha and Clint, but Thor kept his place. So he was the first one to see the two kids come hurtling out of the house and into Bruce's arms.

One was a boy, still rather young, who had the same curly hair as Bruce. The other was a smaller girl with long blonde locks trailing down her back. Thor smiled at the family. It reminded him of Volstagg and his family. Volstagg's children would always be running around and climbing on their father's lap at feasts, and Thor had been happy to receive embraces from them as well.

As Bruce turned around and the children went to their mother, Thor peered into the house in confusion. He could see another child, smaller than either of the others, who seemed reluctant to leave the house. Why would this child have misgivings about greeting his father?

"You say Banner has been away five years. How old is the boy hiding in the house?" he asked. Tony and Steve looked at him then leaned closer to the window. _They must not be able to see inside from this distance._ "There is a third child who appears to be very young. Does he not know his father?"

"No," Natasha replied. "He was born after Bruce left. Banner didn't even know he had a third child."

Thor frowned. He knew there were many differences between the customs and people of Asgard and Midgard, but he thought Bruce should have been aware of this other child. Perhaps the mother never told him, or could not reach him. Whatever the case, the child was having great difficulty coming to terms with Bruce's return.

After creeping out of the house and timidly touching Bruce's face, the boy embraced his father. The family was reunited, and Thor was pleased to have been able to witness it. But there were other matters pressing on his mind. Ultron was still planning on eliminating the humans, and something from Thor's vision needed to be investigated before it was too late. So without consulting the others, he strode the length of the jet while saying,

"Banner will have to bond with his family later. Right now we must discuss plans for stopping Ultron before he has the chance to destroy the life on this planet. And I need to see if what the witch showed me has any bearing on our mission."

Thor then continued down the ramp and headed to the porch. It was time for the family to find out why they had visitors.


	5. Shawarma All Over Again

**A/N:** Sorry for the long wait, but life decided to make an unwelcome appearance in my daydreams and had to be dealt with. I'm back on a roll though, so expect updates more frequently in the coming days. Thanks again to Pigeon, you are a life saver. Enjoy!

* * *

Abigail couldn't help but cry when she saw how completely happy her kids were to see their father again. Michael was the only one old enough to remember Bruce, since he was five when everything happened. Sophie had told her of one specific memory she had of being comforted by him after having a nightmare, but Abigail was pretty sure that was something her heart made up rather than a genuine recollection. Sophie was only two at the time, after all.

As for Owen, she knew he was excited to meet his dad. He was – but he was also scared because he knew Bruce never knew he was born. And since the kids had started listening in the moment they heard voices on the porch (how they managed to keep inside the whole time was beyond her), they undoubtedly overheard the fight she and Bruce had over Owen's existence. Owen was finally able to overcome his fear, though, and she was relieved.

 _Of course it happened the moment he saw Bruce's eyes,_ she thought. _Owen always wondered why he was the only one with brown eyes._

Her warm feelings cooled when she realized someone was walking towards the porch. She knew Bruce wasn't alone because he was no pilot, and SHIELD wouldn't trust him to take off alone with their super jet, but she did not expect someone wearing a cape.

"I see you brought some friends," Abigail said, hurriedly wiping tears off her face before pulling Michael and Sophie a little closer to her sides.

Her tone caused Bruce to look worriedly at her and then at Thor. He stood, picking Owen up and holding him on his right hip with one arm. Abigail looked at Bruce, then Thor, then the jet. She had a feeling there were more of them waiting on the plane, and that made her instinctively move to stand beside Bruce. It was a paranoid thought, but Abigail felt slightly comforted having the door right behind her, just in case she needed to send the kids inside and block the way.

Thor walked up the steps and smiled, nodding at Bruce before holding a hand out to Abigail. She took in his disheveled appearance and compared it to Bruce; they had been in some fight recently, as evidenced by the blood and dirt on Thor's face, but clearly Bruce had been in Hulk form, since the clothes he wore were still tidy. She took her right arm away from Michael's shoulders to shake Thor's hand as Bruce introduced them to one another.

"Abigail, this is Thor. Thor, this is Abigail, my wife." He sounded nervous, which sort of seemed fitting with everything that was going on. Abigail smiled, partly for the guest and partly for Bruce, and Thor shook her hand firmly.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Abigail," Thor said politely. Since she had only ever seen pictures or grainy videos of him, she was surprised by his accent.

"Nice to meet you too," she replied, her smile becoming less forced. "How is your planet, uh, Asgard?"

Thor's smile slipped, but he covered it well.

"My home is still recovering from the destruction caused by the Dark Elves. But I am hopeful it will be improved when I return."

"Are they the same Dark Elves that attacked London?" Sophie asked.

Abigail sighed. Once Sophie started talking about one of her interests – namely aliens, the Avengers, or penguins – there was no stopping her. Ever since she knew of Bruce's connection to the Avengers, the girl spent almost all her free time researching the team. Sophie was particularly interested in Thor, since he was an Avenger _and_ an alien. Thor looked down at her and nodded.

"Yes, they were able to travel between our worlds because of the Convergence. You have a good memory for someone so young. What is your name?"

"I'm Sophie," she said, holding her hand out. Thor shook it gently and Sophie then used it to point at her family members as she introduced them, ignoring the fact that he already knew or had just been introduced to half of them. "This is mom, that's Michael, that's dad, and that's Owen. Do any of the Avengers know who we are or is it just SHIELD? Mommy said we were a secret because dad wanted to keep us safe."

"You were indeed a secret. We only found out about your family when we landed. The rest of our party should be coming out any moment to greet you; I wonder at their taking so long," Thor replied.

He impatiently turned around to look at the jet. After a moment, Natasha and Clint trailed out followed closely by Steve. Tony didn't appear until the others were coming up the porch steps. Abigail relaxed a little more as Natasha and then Clint shook her hand.

"Romanoff, Barton, it's been a long time since we last saw you," she said pleasantly.

"Too long?" Natasha asked, raising an eyebrow. Abigail laughed and shook her head.

"No such thing." She glanced at Bruce and saw him give Natasha a pointed look.

"I'm guessing it's been less than four years since you all got together. Was there anything important you could have told me that I might not have known about?" Bruce adjusted his hold on Owen to emphasize his point. Clint was the one who replied to this jab.

"Well, if we _had_ visited in the last four years, there's nothing we could have told you. That would have been in direct violation of our agreement, wouldn't it?" Clint was grinning, but that didn't make Bruce any happier. Abigail cut in to prevent a fight.

"I'm sure you can talk about this later, Bruce," she said bluntly. She turned to Steve, who was hanging back on one of the lower steps. "I'm Abigail. Welcome to our home, Captain. You and everyone else can clean up, rest, eat, and get whatever you need. I can see that you've been through some action lately." Steve walked up and stood next to her.

"Please, call me Steve. Thank you for being so understanding and taking us in on such short notice," he said with a smile.

He glanced between her and the children, and Owen caught his attention. The boy was staring so intently at him that Steve became a little unnerved. Their connection was broken when Tony heavily trudged up the steps and stood between him and Natasha. Tony looked around the circle their group had formed and focused on each individual child, then on Abigail.

Abigail stiffened. Though she would never, _ever_ admit it to anyone, Tony was the only person she felt threatened by in the group. Not physically threatened, because he was nothing without the Iron Man suit, but… Bruce had left of his own accord, but Abigail felt that he would have returned much sooner if he had not met Tony Stark. From what she could tell based on the declassified SHIELD files and regular news clips, Tony and Bruce were best friends. They researched together, fought side by side, and were pretty damn close to being a couple. So Abigail's greeting to him was delivered through a half-clenched jaw.

"Stark," she said, nodding in his direction and looking away. She didn't see the bewildered look he gave in response. "Let's go inside. We haven't had breakfast yet and I'm sure you could all use a warm meal."

* * *

Bruce held the screen door open and let everyone pass before him. When he walked into the house, he was surprised at how different it looked. The last time he was here was right after Sophie was born. Back then, the house had an empty feel to it because it was just used as a vacation home by Abigail's parents. There had been unfinished wooden furniture, country cottage art prints, and farm-related knick-knacks placed throughout the house. Even the bathrooms had been decorated in a rustic style.

Now, it felt like a real home. Bruce took a moment to turn around and take in all the changes. The open entryway that connected the dining area and kitchen had a striped area rug in front of the door and a storage bench to the right of it, which was crowded with backpacks and kids' shoes. The wall to the left of the door was covered in framed photos of the kids in school pictures, family portraits, and vacation spots. Glancing through them, Bruce realized he only appeared in or remembered a few of them. The curtains he could see hanging in the dining area and adjoined living room were bold green to match the shutters outside, and the once wallpapered walls had been painted soothing white and pale yellow. Though some of the furniture was left over from before, there were new cushy chairs and ottomans in the living room that reflected Abigail's love of color and comfort.

At her insistence, everyone sat at the long, polished table in the dining area. Bruce recognized it immediately. _This is something she must have brought from California_ , he thought. Michael and Sophie rushed to their spots and made a point of leaving a chair empty between them for Bruce. He sat in it, moving Owen to rest on his knees, and watched as the others took their places around the table. Thor sat on one end of the table, with Sophie, Bruce/Owen, and Michael seated to his right. On his left were Tony, Steve, and Natasha. The other end of the table and the chairs on either side of it were left empty for Abigail and Clint, who had gone into the kitchen to make breakfast.

Sophie looked around the table and said, "We've never had this many people over before. One time there were five SHIELD agents visiting, but that's because Owen was sick. Do you remember that, Tasha?" Bruce barely had time to register that it was Owen who had been sick and not Michael, and that Sophie had _actually_ called Natasha by a nickname, when Natasha replied to the question.

"Yes, I do remember that. We were surprised to hear from you guys after so long. I'm glad that Owen has only had one other episode since then." Natasha turned to address Bruce. "Owen had a seizure two years ago, which Abigail thought was… something else. So she called us in to check him over. It turned out to be benign rolandic epilepsy, but we made sure to stop by every few months to see how things were going."

Bruce concentrated on the back of Owen's head as if he could see inside. He knew from his time traveling as a doctor that this form of epilepsy was usually not serious and that Owen would eventually outgrow it. He could easily imagine how Abigail thought, or rather feared that something more serious was occurring.

"Despite the agreement?" Bruce asked. He knew he shouldn't get into it again with the kids in the room, but he couldn't help being irked at SHIELD's interference.

"We had every intention of staying away when you agreed to work with us. But once Coulson heard something was wrong, he figured that the no-contact clause was negated since _she_ was the one to contact _us_. The agreement could then remain in place and business would continue as usual," Natasha said, leaning back in her chair.

Bruce was still angry, because SHIELD had made a point of telling him nothing to keep him working for them. But he was glad in a small way that Coulson had decided to help his family at risk of breaking the agreement. He didn't get to know him well, but Coulson had seemed like a good person to Bruce, despite his affiliation with SHIELD.

Just that moment, Clint and Abigail appeared carrying platters of pancakes, eggs, and bacon to set in the middle of the table. She went back to the kitchen to grab plates and forks, which she handed to Thor to pass out, and then a couple bottles of syrup. Clint got a tray of glasses and walked around the table to hand them out, and then placed a pitcher of water and a jug of milk in the center of the table.

"Go ahead and dig in, everyone. We can always make more," Abigail said, reaching for the water. Everyone did dig in, and for a few minutes the only sounds in the house were the cartoons the children had left on and people chewing.

 _Shawarma all over again,_ Bruce noted. And it was a lot like after New York; everyone was tired, and dirty, and not really wanting to talk. But he knew that this time the war was far from over, and they needed to have a conversation about Ultron as soon as possible. He considered waiting on it until breakfast was over and the kids left the room, but Bruce didn't plan on being away from them until they took off to confront Ultron.

 _I have to leave again to protect them. I have to stop the monster I helped create. But when I come back, I'm coming back to stay._

* * *

Abigail had convinced their visitors to sit around the dining table so she could have the kitchen to herself. She mechanically went through the motions of gathering ingredients and making pancakes on a cast iron griddle. She didn't realize Clint had followed her and was leaning against the small kitchen table watching her.

"So how have things been?" Clint asked, making Abigail jump.

She glared at him and then picked up a pancake that had dropped on the floor, chucking it at his face.

"Things have been fine. I assume the same can't be said about the Avengers," she retorted.

Clint easily caught it and tossed it over his shoulder. Abigail watched as it sailed through the air and landed neatly in the open trashcan.

"Has Owen had any more seizures?" Clint asked, ignoring her comment about the Avengers.

 _Slithering out of answering,_ Abigail thought. _No changes there._

"I'll answer your questions once you answer mine," she replied.

When he didn't answer, she sighed and turned to face him, making sure to flip the last pancake off the griddle so it wouldn't burn.

"You know Bruce will tell me. I saw the news last night – I know a little of what is going on out there. I don't see why you continue to hold out when we're already involved."

Clint seemed to consider her words. After a moment, he went to the fridge and pulled out a carton of eggs and a package of bacon. He carried these to the counter next to the stove, pulled out a skillet from below, and stood next to Abigail to start frying the bacon. She continued making pancakes when he began to speak.

"Bruce and Stark hacked Loki's scepter and found it was way more advanced than any tech we've ever made. So they used it to make a new program, which Stark thought could be used to protect the planet from future alien invasions," Clint whispered quickly. Abigail hung onto every word, surprised that he was actually telling her this. "But things went wrong; it gained consciousness and accessed the Internet. Shockingly, it decided humans were scum and hijacked Stark's drones in an attempt to take us out."

"Surely you guys could manage a handful of robots?" Abigail asked, already knowing the answer.

"There was more than a handful. One bot escaped, but we were able to track it to South Africa. It wasn't alone. There were two humans with it – twins – who had powers from being exposed to the scepter. The brother can run incredibly fast, and the sister has psychic capabilities."

Here Clint paused, lifting the last slice of bacon out of the pan and switching over to eggs. Abigail again knew what came next.

"She messed with your heads, didn't she?" She shook her head and poked at one of the pancakes that was still cooking. "I take it Bruce came out the worst, being in his Hulk state?"

Clint nodded. It seemed he had nothing more to say. Abigail could only imagine the damage the Hulk could do when influenced by the mental equivalent of an electric cattle prod. But then, she didn't really have to imagine; she was sure that she could see it if she just flipped on the news. They finished cooking in silence, then carried the food out to the table. She took the empty seat next to Michael and Clint sat across from her next to Natasha.

Once everybody started eating, Abigail took a closer look at the Avengers. They were all covered in dirt that was streaked with sweat, even Stark. They all had dark circles under their eyes from a sleepless night. And they all had a haunted look on their faces, which she figured was an effect from the psychic sister. Now that she could compare everyone at the same time, she saw that Bruce did look the worst off; she just hadn't realized it because of their emotional reunion.

Bruce caught her staring, and they shared the moment. She was understanding more and more why he felt the need to stay away, even if she didn't agree with it. He had such a brilliant scientific mind as Bruce Banner, but was a violent, unstoppable force as the Hulk. Abigail knew SHIELD or the Avengers would never let him quit outright because he was a major asset either way. She just hoped that he would take a break from playing superheroes and come back to his family.

"Mom, we're out of milk," Michael whispered in her ear. Abigail looked down at his empty glass and then the empty milk jug, scooting her chair back to grab another.

"I'll get it," Steve said, already standing. Abigail sat back down and watched him take the empty to the kitchen and return with a full jug. He set it in front of Michael with a small smile before walking around the table to get back to his seat.

Abigail took another look at the people sitting around the table. She never would have guessed that the Avengers would be sitting in her house eating breakfast as if it were a normal event. SHIELD agents had been by countless times, including Natasha and Clint, but she never offered to make them a meal. But then again they were usually either stopping for twenty minutes and then leaving, or conducting medical tests on her youngest with no time for food.

* * *

When Steve broke the silence by fetching more milk, Tony finally broke out of his stupor. He knew they had to start making plans to stop Ultron, but he wasn't sure where to begin. Fortunately for him, Thor finished off his drink, turned to Bruce and began speaking.

"I think it is time we discussed Ultron. I am not sure if this is a conversation you wish your children to hear, though the decision is yours and your wife's to make."

"They should stay. I'm not hiding anything from my family," Bruce said, looking back at Abigail. The kids perked up but remained quiet, not wanting the decision to be reversed. Everyone at the table looked to Thor, but Bruce and Abigail held each other's gaze a moment longer.

"Very well," Thor said. "We know that Ultron is planning to destroy humanity. We know he will be powerful enough to do so once he creates more of those robots. But there is something else at play that I cannot identify. The vision I had showed something of great importance, but I will need to contact Erik Selvig to find out what it means."

"Is it something to do with the vibranium he collected from Africa?" Steve asked, leaning forward to rest his arms on the table. Thor shook his head, eyebrows furrowed. "What is the vibranium for, then?"

"He has more than just vibranium now," Natasha pointed out. "With that and the scepter, there's no knowing what his next move will be."

"Yes there is," Tony suddenly said. "What is so special about vibranium? Other than its use as Cap's shiny Frisbee?"

"It's incredibly versatile. Vibranium is capable of absorbing mass quantities of energy and bonding with most other metals and elements," Bruce replied, catching on.

"Exactly. The whole time Ultron has been... in existence, he's been using spare parts to create more bodies for himself," Tony continued. "What if he wants to build one from scratch? He can use the vibranium – the strongest, most resilient metal alloy in existence – and fuse it with any other materials to create his idea of a perfect form."

There was silence around the table as Tony's words sank in. There was no doubt in _his_ mind that Ultron would continue making throwaway bodies out of ordinary metal. But Ultron was also flashy and egotistical; he needed a superior form to use as a figurehead that would be bigger and stronger than the others, something that would be harder for the Avengers to take down.

"Until we can discover where Ultron is creating this new form, we have no way of stopping him," Thor said, rising out of his chair. "I _must_ find out the meaning of my vision. I will return once I know its importance in our mission."

Tony watched as Thor thanked Abigail for her hospitality and walked out the front door. Through the window, everyone could see him walk halfway to the jet and start swinging the hammer before jettisoning into the sky.

 _He better figure something out fast,_ Tony thought, _because I got nothing._ His vision had shown him only death; the intended message was that he was doomed to fail. But Tony had never in his life backed down from a fight, and he wasn't about to start now.

 _Time to go to work._


	6. Fun Times at the Banner Family Farm

After Thor left, there was a lull in conversation. Abigail cleared away some of the empty plates and Bruce moved Owen from his knee to the chair so he could help. They took the dirty dishes to the sink and rinsed them off before loading the dishwasher. Their hands touched when they both went to close the door of the dishwasher, so Bruce took that opportunity to hold her hand in his.

Again they took a moment to look into each other's eyes. Bruce could sense someone watching them from the doorway but he didn't care. He and Abigail used to be so incredibly close; he could look into her eyes and know exactly what she was thinking. Sometimes, he didn't even have to look at her to read her mind. Now, though, he couldn't figure out what she was thinking _or_ feeling.

"We have a lot to talk about," he said, rubbing small circles on the back of her hand with his thumb.

Abigail half smiled and nodded, squeezing his hand in response. Bruce knew that no matter their difficulties now, they would always make things work out in the end. She was a very forgiving person, and he couldn't hold a grudge (against her, at least) to save his life.

He turned to lead them back out to the table and saw three pairs of eyes peeking at him from the edge of the doorway. When they realized they were caught, the kids stepped out of their "hiding" spot and stood together as a small but formidable group.

"Are you two going to start fighting?" Sophie asked. Bruce was taken aback by this question, but he smiled and shook his head.

"No, we're not going to fight," he replied. Abigail said at the same time, "Maybe later."

Bruce whipped his head around to look at his wife and saw she had that impish look on her face again.

"I don't think we will be all-out screaming at each other, but there might be some terse words exchanged when we talk later. No reason to keep that from the kids. It will upset them more if it happens and they don't expect it," Abigail explained with a toothy grin.

This was the same saucy attitude Bruce had fallen in love with, so he let go of the hand he was holding to snake his arm around her waist.

"I missed this," he whispered so only she could hear, planting a kiss in her hair. Abigail brought her arm up to wrap around his waist and pulled him closer.

"We are not super-angry at each other," she said, addressing the children, "but we know that once we start talking our emotions are going to get the best of us and there's always a chance we will… raise our voices. That doesn't mean we hate each other, because we do love each other very much. Right?"

Bruce looked at Abigail's upturned face and reflected on what she just said.

 _She still loves me,_ he thought. He could see it clearly in her eyes. But her question and the worry creasing her brow told him she doubted his love. Without thinking he kissed her, reaching his free hand up to tangle in her hair. Abigail used her hands to grab his shoulders and pull herself up to his height. One of the kids giggled, but Bruce wasn't going to stop until he ran out of breath – and he could hold his breath for a _long_ time.

* * *

Clint sat silently through breakfast, and through the conversation about Ultron, and through Thor's departure. He always felt himself to be more of an observer than a commentator. Natasha was always quick to point out though he never shut the hell up during their paired missions, and that had landed them in hot water back in Budapest. But on large-group missions for SHIELD or with the Avengers, Clint preferred to stay back and take everything in while others jumped into the action.

This was one time he was very happy to be an observer. Being in touch with both Bruce and Abigail over the past few years without relaying any messages or information between them had been an interesting exercise in keeping his mouth shut.

Fury and Coulson always emphasized the importance of keeping the two apart information-wise, since their relationship with each was tentative at best, but Clint believed it would have been more advantageous to bring Abigail and the kids into SHIELD under the guise of helping Owen's seizures or just protecting the family. Banner would have been more cooperative and Clint wouldn't have to seal himself off all the time and avoid answering any questions that might raise red flags.

Okay, so maybe _part_ of Clint's motive for reuniting the family sooner was entirely selfish. But he was genuinely happy to see them reunited, and he truly wished they didn't have a dark, Ultron-shaped cloud hanging over their heads to spoil the moment.

When Bruce and Abigail began clearing the table, he considered getting up and following Steve and Tony to the living room. But from where he was sitting he had a direct line of sight to the kitchen sink, and the chance to do some more "observing" was too tempting to pass up.

Clint and Natasha watched the couple doing menial housework with great interest; their interest increased when the three children got out of their seats and kneeled or stood by the doorway to the kitchen to spy on their parents.

From this distance, Clint could see everything in detail and still pick up on their speech. He had excellent vision, better than most humans. His hearing was… not. When he joined SHIELD they gave him an almost invisible earpiece that made his normally deaf ears sensitive to the quietest whispers. It came in handy just then, when Bruce whispered that he "missed this" and kissed Abigail's head.

"Ten bucks says they make out in the next minute," Clint muttered to Natasha. Her face remained expressionless but he picked up the ear twitch that she always did when she found something funny. She could, of course, control something as ridiculous as an ear twitch, but Clint knew she kept doing it for his amusement.

"Make it in the next twenty seconds and you're on," she replied, tapping her watch under the table to start the timer.

 _Come on Bruce,_ Clint thought to himself, _just kiss her already!_ He listened to Abigail explain their fighting style to the kids and counted silently in his head. At seventeen seconds Abigail looked up at his face and Clint could sense the kiss coming. Unfortunately for him, it came a second too late.

"Hand it over, Clint," Natasha said, holding her hand palm-up next to his leg. He pulled the money from a concealed pocket in his pants and slapped it in her hand. "Thank you! Now you get to go interrupt the lovebirds. I'm getting a shower before anyone steals the hot water."

"Leave some for me," he replied.

They stood and pushed in their chairs simultaneously. It creeped Clint out sometimes how in sync they were. She headed down the hallway to the small bathroom on this floor and Clint went to stand behind the kids in the doorway. He loudly cleared his throat and the couple broke apart rather noisily. Abigail threw him a cold look and smoothed her hair, and Bruce had a sleepy, dazed look on his face at which Clint tried hard not to laugh.

"I know it's been awhile, but try to control your teenager hormones in front of the kids. It's just gross when old people make out," Clint said mockingly. Sophie jumped to their defense.

"Excuse _you_ , they are two grown ups who are very very in love and haven't seen each other in forever and a half. If you didn't see Tasha for five years I bet you guys would make out, too." Her tone was very serious, and she was standing with a hand on her hip and a chastising index finger jammed in Clint's stomach.

He and Sophie had arguments almost every time he visited about when he was going to marry Natasha, because she was completely convinced they were in love. They kind of were, in a we-once-were-lovers-but-now-it's-just-platonic sort of way, but Clint's heart belonged to someone else now. He couldn't exactly explain his private life to a six year old, though, so he just kept arguing with her instead.

"Excuse _you_ , I would not make out in front of a group of kids no matter how long it had been," he replied, mirroring Sophie's posture. She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes, exasperated. "And I also would _not_ make out yet if I hadn't shown my guests where they can get washed up and changed."

Abigail had returned to a normal, happy face after throwing a cold one Clint's way, but now she was giving him the all-out GTFO look he was used to receiving from her after arguing with Sophie. Nevertheless, he smiled as always and moved out of the way as Abigail and Bruce walked past him and to the living room to talk to the other guests.

 _More fun times at the Banner family farm,_ he thought. _Maybe once this is done I'll get to go back to my farm. I still have to finish that sunroom…_


	7. Pipe Dream

Abigail led the way to the living room to be hospitable to their visitors, as Clint had challenged her to do, with Bruce practically attached to her hip and the kids trailing behind like ducklings.

Tony and Steve were speaking quietly together, but Natasha was nowhere to be seen. They looked up at the sound of footsteps and took in the sight of the couple holding each other around the waist.

Steve came forward to talk to them, but Tony took a step back and kept some distance.

"Thank you for breakfast," Steve said immediately. "I haven't had a home cooked meal in ages."

Abigail was predisposed to liking Steve because of his role in uncovering SHIELD's bad side and publishing all their files, and his good manners made her like him even more. She figured they were a remnant of his past that hopefully wouldn't get stomped out by the inconsiderate company he kept – AKA Tony Stark.

"You're very welcome," she replied warmly. "I'm guessing you guys will be hanging around for the day, so you can look forward to lunch and dinner as well. In the meantime, why don't you get cleaned up and rest for a bit? I have some of Bruce's old clothes that should fit you well enough. I'll show you where the bathrooms are, if you'll follow me."

She pulled her arm away from Bruce's middle but he dragged her back for a quick kiss on the head before releasing her hand. He stayed behind with Tony when she walked out of the room with Steve and the kids.

 _Looks like I have a new duckling in tow,_ she thought to herself. It made her crack a smile.

Abigail led the ducks around the back of the house to get to the bathroom on the first floor and, spying the closed door, figured out where Natasha went. After knocking on the door, she poked her head in and asked if Natasha needed any clothes. Steam billowed out and she saw the answer sitting on the edge of the sink.

"Already got some of yours from the cupboard. Thanks anyways," Natasha responded.

Abigail was a little annoyed that Natasha felt comfortable helping herself to things in her house, but "Tasha" was nothing if not practical. Grabbing things for herself saved time and ensured she would get the most hot water. Abigail had a feeling Clint was upstairs stealing hot water as well, though she couldn't help but poke the bear.

"Can you ask Clint if he needs clothes as well?" she asked, voice lowered to keep the kids from overhearing. Natasha heaved an overdramatic sigh.

"He's not in here, as you know. If he has any brains he's upstairs getting in the other shower right now."

"If you say so! There's no reason to hide your illicit romance from us, _Tasha_. The Romanoffs will be welcome in our home anytime."

"If you would actually be welcoming towards us, it would be worth the hassle."

Abigail laughed and closed the door. The children had convened for a private conversation by the door to the spare bedroom, so Abigail left them behind and gestured for Steve to follow.

 _Down to one duckling._

They reached the top of the stairs and Abigail saw the other bathroom was also occupied. She didn't particularly care if Clint had grabbed extra clothes for himself or not, what with his interrupting her incredibly romantic and much-needed kiss with her long-absent husband, so she walked past the bathroom and led Steve into her room to get to the attached half bath.

"I guess you'll have to wait on one of them to get out to shower, but you can at least wash your face in here. I'll leave some towels and clothes out on the bed for you," she said.

Steve walked up to the double sink and looked himself over in the mirror. His uniform was torn in places and there was blood mixed with sweat dried in his collar. He scratched the back of his neck and looked at Abigail's face reflected in the mirror.

"Thank you again. I'm sure this is not the way you expected Bruce to come home, beat up and dragging his friends along."

Abigail half smiled and looked at his reflection.

"I never expected his homecoming to be no strings attached, though I'll admit I never thought to have the Avengers over for breakfast," she replied with a small laugh. "If I'm really honest… I never thought he'd come back at all. So I'll gladly take any mess he brings with him."

Steve turned to face her fully and looked in her eyes. Abigail considered putting up her guard or softening what she said, but decided against it. If she couldn't be honest around Captain America, who else was there?

"It might not mean much, but I'm sorry Bruce left in the first place. He was researching the serum that made me what I am when his accident happened," Steve apologized. Abigail put a hand up to stop him.

"Please, I don't blame you in the slightest. Accidents always happen. The fact that Bruce is into serious experiments means that the accidents are going to be serious. He might have left because of it, but he's back for now. And I hope that when you guys are done saving the world, he'll come back again to stay. None of this is on you."

Steve didn't seem to agree that he was blameless, but he didn't argue the point. He just nodded, turned to the sink, and resumed looking at his reflection.

Abigail moved to leave, but a thought stopped her as she was closing the door. She pushed it open and stepped back in the bathroom.

"Steve?"

He looked up, surprised. "Yes?"

"Thank you. For bringing down SHIELD," Abigail said.

Steve looked confused, so she explained.

"The first couple years I tried to keep tabs on Bruce, but he seemed to have dropped off the face of the Earth. The only guarantees I had that he was still alive were in sporadic news clips about a city the Hulk had leveled."

Abigail paused, and Steve turned and leaned back against the edge of the sink. After a moment she continued.

"When you published SHIELD's files, I finally had an answer for the kids of where he had been all those years. Being able to read about what Bruce was up to made things a lot easier for them. So thanks for doing that. And, you know, thanks for stopping a corrupt military organization from taking over the planet. That would have been unpleasant."

Steve chuckled. "You're welcome on both counts. I was just doing my job, and I had a lot of help from friends."

"Well, I'm glad you're one of Bruce's friends. He could use people he can trust on his team."

If Steve understood her suggestion that Bruce had people on his team that he _couldn't_ trust, he didn't show it. So without another word, Abigail backed out of the room and pulled the door shut.

She turned around to get towels and things out of the linen cupboard when her eyes fell on a picture on her dresser. It was of the kids, taken on Halloween.

Much to Abigail's chagrin, they had elected to dress up as the Avengers – Michael was Iron Man, Sophie was Thor, and Owen was Captain America. (They tried to get her to be Black Widow, but imagining Natasha's smug smile was too much for her to handle.)

Since Abigail's mother was a retired teacher/semi-retired seamstress, she volunteered to make the costumes. The children were indescribably excited when they got to try on the finished outfits, and it was that moment that had been immortalized in the photograph.

On seeing the picture Abigail was overcome by a need to be with her children and see how they were handling everything. She knew that she was fairly composed, considering all that had happened in the past few hours, but her hold on her emotions was wearing thin already.

 _If I'm barely keeping it together, how must they feel?_ She touched the picture with her fingertips, thinking of their devotion to learning about and basically becoming the people their father had befriended.

 _After all these years they finally get to meet their idols. Will the Avengers meet their expectations, or will they be disappointed by how ordinary and flawed these heroes turn out to be?_

Steve's towels would have to wait. Abigail's children always came first, no matter what the cost.

* * *

When Clint interrupted their kiss, Bruce was out of it for a second.

That's the way it always was between him and Abigail. He lost track of time no matter what they were doing, whether they were just reading in the same room together or doing more… intimate activities.

So he let himself be towed along to the living room, barely registering what Abigail and Steve said to one another. When she started to pull away, he instinctively brought her back, kissing her head.

 _This is how it used to be_ , Bruce thought. _This is how it should be_.

He lingered in the living room, watching his family and Steve leave the room before finally looking at Tony. He was staring out the window with his arms crossed.

When Tony returned his gaze, he seemed unusually subdued. He didn't look like he was going to start a conversation.

"So, what do you think of my family?" Bruce asked, feeling a little self-conscious.

Tony made a face. Bruce's hands dug into the pockets of his jeans.

"Where do I begin?" Tony asked, ire tinting his words. "It would have been nice if you told me you actually _had_ a family sometime in the past three years."

"I didn't tell anyone I had a family, I wanted to keep them safe," Bruce began explaining.

"What, you thought I would put them in danger?" Tony interrupted. "We have been working side by side for three years, Bruce. How could you even keep a secret of this magnitude from me for so long?"

Bruce tried to explain again, but Tony started ranting and pacing the floor.

"This kind of subterfuge I'd expect from Barton. I wouldn't be half as surprised if we had landed at _his_ secret safe house and a family popped up out of nowhere. But _you_? I have literally no secrets from you. My life is an open book that anyone can read through. Why –"

"I didn't trust myself!" Bruce snapped. "Why didn't I tell you or anyone else about my family? Because I didn't trust myself to come back into their lives."

Tony still looked pissed off, but he was finally listening. Bruce clenched and unclenched his hands to keep them from shaking.

"If I told you I had a family, the first thing you would have done would've been to make me go see them. Until very recently, I didn't have the control necessary to live a normal life. First I lived in remote villages, then the outskirts of small towns. New York was a big step that was helping me prepare for California, where I thought my family was living. I wasn't going to come anywhere near them until I knew I could keep the other guy from coming out and trying to kill them again."

The whole time Bruce spoke, his words had a sobering effect on Tony. He had gone back to staring out the window until the last word Bruce said.

"Again. Did – was that – Oh, _Jesus_." Tony stammered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Bruce sighed. "Yeah. The first time I transformed, I fled from Culver and went home. I wanted to try and get them off the grid before Ross and the military could catch up. But, being so unstable, I changed right in front of them. God, the look on her face…"

Bruce buried his face in his hands, the anger that caused them to shake dispelled by his flashback.

"I could have killed her," he whispered. "I could have killed my children. And I couldn't live with myself if I did that. So I stayed away. Even now I'm terrified that somehow I'll lose control and hurt someone I love."

Tony was silent for a moment. He slumped against the wall by the window, letting it support all his weight.

"I would have helped you," Tony said quietly. "If you just told me, I would have helped you figure out a way to control it. We worked together on developing Veronica to help contain the Hulk after he starts going nuts, but that's all after the fact."

He straightened up and walked until he was standing right in front of Bruce.

"Even if you wanted to keep your family a secret, you could have asked me to work with you on preventative measures. The heart slowing serum was a step in the right direction; even if that didn't work, we could have spring boarded off that and come up with something else. Even if the next thing didn't work we would have kept trying."

Bruce dropped his hands from his face but kept his eyes averted. Tony pinched his nose again and continued.

"What I don't get is why you just dropped the project entirely when we started raiding Hydra bunkers. There was plenty of downtime in between to keep researching, and JARVIS could've run sims while we were out. What made you give up so quickly?"

"I don't know. When I was developing it, I imagined how it could help prevent me from changing _or_ help bring me back. The closer we got to testing it, the more I thought about seeing my family again. I got hopeful," Bruce said, ruefully.

"But when it failed, it brought back nightmares of the night I left; I replay them over and over in my mind and can't stop sometimes. Coming up with a treatment seems like a pipe dream. Besides, I had no guarantee Abigail would want anything to do with me after what I put her and the kids through."

Tony looked over Bruce's shoulder and saw curly hair disappear around the edge of the entryway. Bruce turned and watched Michael peek out before hiding again.

"Well, they didn't bring out torches and pitchforks when we landed, so that's a sign they want something to do with you. And you know what else was a pipe dream?"

Tony tapped the place where the arc reactor was once embedded in his chest.

"Getting rid of that. The arc reactor kept me alive when I should have died. I used my second chance to right a lot of wrongs. For a while I didn't even consider having it removed. But when the time came, I consulted with some of the world's top heart surgeons and figured out how to get it done. Now I'm free, and you should be too."

Bruce seemed skeptical, so Tony rephrased his offer.

"Once we take down Ultron, we can work together and find your out. And then you can come back here and make up for lost time."

Bruce shook his head. "You don't understand, Tony. When Ultron is finished, so am I. As soon as the dust settles and we know for sure he is gone I'm not going back to New York; I'm coming home. I knew that the moment I stepped off the jet. It's completely selfish and dangerous and reckless but I can't keep myself away from them any longer."

This was news that Tony wasn't prepared for. He took a step back and searched Bruce's face. What he saw he must not have liked, because the concern on his face was replaced by a cold mask of indifference.

Tony crossed his arms and walked back to his post at the window. He didn't look in Bruce's direction when he said,

"The offer still stands. Give me a ring if you ever want to take it up."

This was clearly a dismissal, so Bruce turned around and walked out of the living room to where his eldest was still hiding. Michael looked up at him with a sheepish grin, knowing he was caught snooping. Bruce put a hand on his son's shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly.

"Let's go outside. We have a lot to catch up on."

The boy smiled widely and Bruce mirrored him. With one last look at Tony's stoic figure, he walked out the front door.

Bruce's family always came first, no matter what the cost.


	8. Overheard

Michael's heart was pounding. Everything was happening so fast; his mind was still reeling over the fact that his dad was actually back. It felt reassuring to him to feel Bruce's hand on his shoulder as they walked together, because otherwise he might have convinced himself it was all a dream.

Since Bruce wasn't talking yet, and they had a bit of a walk to get over to the barn, where Michael assumed they were headed, he tried to memorize everything that had happened so far.

He had been reading in the living room while Sophie and Owen watched cartoons; the TV was so loud they didn't realize the jet had arrived until someone was already walking out of it. One of their mom's rules was that they had to wait inside whenever someone from SHIELD stopped by, so he and his siblings had huddled around the front-facing window in the dining room to see who it was.

Sophie figured out it was their dad first, though Michael refused to believe it. Being the oldest meant being skeptical and not getting the others' hopes up. But sure enough it was Bruce, and Michael had to physically restrain his sister from running out the door. Even if it was their dad, mom had to give the go-ahead for them to go outside.

The wait was torture – five years was a long time to wait, but the last five minutes were the worst because he was so near.

Michael didn't like that their parents fought for half of it. He felt especially frustrated because Owen was the reason for the argument, and was glad when Sophie gave him a hug the moment his lower lip started trembling. Michael gave Owen a hug too, but it was his job to be lookout and kind of guard the other two when they were distracted.

The wait finally ended, though, and he bolted out the door with Sophie at his side. Finally feeling his father's arm around him was too much; there were so many scenarios that Michael had played out in his head about his dad coming home, but in exactly none of them did he cry so much he got hiccups. He was so distracted by his own feelings he didn't even realize Owen had stayed inside until Bruce let them go.

That was a special moment of its own. Since Michael and Owen shared a room even before the seizures started, they talked a lot about whatever happened to be on Owen's mind – and Bruce was on his mind a lot. Michael knew exactly what his little brother was thinking and feeling the whole time.

He stopped his reveries to look across the lawn at the huge quinjet. It was in the same spot SHIELD always parked it when they checked in. There were permanent dips in the grass from the landing gear, and Michael always suspected that Clint used those as a guide.

He glanced at his father, considering saying something about it, but decided against it. Bruce also remained quiet, so Michael resumed thinking about the day so far.

Seeing the Avengers coming out of that jet shouldn't have been a surprise, since Michael had been up half the night watching and reading news stories about the Hulk and Iron Man fighting in Johannesburg, but he was still shocked enough by their presence that his hiccups disappeared. So he managed to stay silent during introductions just by watching them, searching for any clue as to what they were doing at his house.

Sophie was more direct in the way she gained information, but Michael picked up on a few things she wouldn't think to ask about. For instance, he saw the way Thor had a worried look on his face when their mom mentioned his home planet. He saw how Clint and Tasha simultaneously changed postures when Bruce made a biting comment, probably thinking he would turn green.

And he _definitely_ saw the way Steve stiffened when Tony Stark walked up next to him, and the way Stark kind of shied away from being too close to anyone. There was a story to find out about, and Michael was hoping his father would be open to telling him everything.

Finally they reached the barn. Bruce undid the latch on the creaky old door and stepped in, looking around as if he had never been in there before. He slid his hand along the wall as he walked, breathing in the musty smell of hay and motor oil.

When he spied an old tractor half-covered by a tarp, Bruce smiled to himself and walked up to it. Michael watched from a few feet away as his dad tugged on the edge of the tarp and revealed the green chipped paint, stirring up months of dust to swirl in the air.

"It's broken," Michael blurted out. "Last fall, it just stopped working."

Bruce's eyebrows knit together and he moved to open the cover but stopped at the last second. He pulled his hands back and rubbed them on his pants to wipe off the dust.

"Grandpa was going to look at it, but mom said we would just scrap it and get a new one. I think if–" Michael sensed that he was starting to blabber, so he stopped mid-sentence, biting the inside of his cheek.

"It probably should be scrapped. It's older than you, you know," Bruce replied, patting the steering wheel.

There was a long pause where Bruce looked like he was thinking of what to say next. Michael waited, not wanting to interrupt, but the seconds ticked by and he itched to say something – anything – to break the silence.

Bruce chuckled, suddenly remembering something. The sound filled the barn, echoing through the emptiness.

"Did your mom ever tell you of the time she tried to run me over with this thing?" Bruce asked.

Michael shook his head, wondering how that kind of memory could possibly make his dad smile. He thought Bruce was about to recount the event, but instead his father awkwardly turned his back to the tractor and leaned against it.

"Michael," he said slowly, "I want you to know that I'm sorry I've been gone for so long. I don't know how much you remember from the time, but you know the reasons why I left now."

Michael did remember what happened – he remembered everything from that night. It was the flawed recollection of a five year old, but there was no misremembering what he saw through the grimy window of the motel: his parents arguing outside, a door slamming, and his father suddenly morphing into a green giant and destroying their car.

Thinking of that and of all the videos he had watched of the Hulk smashing buildings made Michael suddenly nervous. The walls seemed to come closer, the roof sank lower, and he was acutely aware of the shortness of the distance between him and his father.

"It's okay, I don't remember much of anything," Michael said quickly, terrified the other guy would come out if he said the wrong thing. Bruce made a strange face and Michael's stomach did a backflip.

Instead of turning green, Bruce heaved a heavy sigh. "You don't have to be afraid of me, Michael. I would _never_ hurt you," he said, his voice thick. "Back then, I had no control over it. But I wouldn't have come back if I thought there was the slightest chance of hurting you or anyone else."

Michael nodded, trying to swallow his panic.

 _He's not going to turn green,_ he thought; _he's not going to hurt you. He's been living in New York and working with Tony Stark, and that's a lot more stressful than this. You're not going to die in a barn!_

Despite the positive inner monologue, Michael was still scared of being too near Bruce. So he did the most logical thing he could think of and forced his feet to carry him even closer to the tractor.

He leaned against it the same way Bruce did, trying to mimic his languid, not-freaking-out posture. His heart was still pounding and a tiny part of his brain was screaming that he was too close, but Michael tried to keep his voice steady when he spoke.

"I don't think you'll hurt me. You only turn green for the Avengers now, when you want to do it."

Bruce crossed his arms, and Michael saw the contrite look on his face.

"I… It's not…" Bruce tried and failed to respond. He sighed again and changed the topic. "How long have you guys been living out here?"

"Since you left. We kept getting followed by the military and some reporters, so mom decided to move us here. She made a deal with SHIELD: they covered our trail so we would stop getting hassled, and she agreed to report anything she heard from you to Coulson."

Bruce was surprised by the last part, so Michael kept explaining.

"Mom said they were tapping our phones anyways, so she didn't see the point of refusing. I overheard her tell grandma that she would agree to anything that kept her family safe."

Bruce ran a hand through his hair, nodding silently.

"Have you seen a lot of SHIELD then?"

"Kind of. When we first moved here they had Clint spy on us for a week, but mom made him keep his distance. Then Coulson just visited once a month while she was pregnant with Owen."

It looked like Bruce was going to ask something, so Michael paused. But Bruce shook his head a little and remained quiet, letting Michael continue.

"We moved in with grandma and grandpa for awhile when he was born, so they all stayed away, and when we came back here Clint and Tasha just showed up randomly. We didn't see any of them for the longest time, but when Owen had seizures mom called Coulson. After that they came pretty regularly."

"I told them to stay away," Bruce said, looking down at his son. "I said I'd join the Avengers if SHIELD agreed to stop all contact with my family. I figured they were keeping tabs on everyone, though I didn't know if they actually talked to you. But that was a mistake, since you needed them after all."

"Only because…" Michael bit his cheek again. He wasn't supposed to know this, and he had promised not to share it with anyone.

"Only because what?" Bruce asked. He stepped away from the tractor to fully face his son, who squirmed uncomfortably.

Michael wished he had stayed by the door, because Bruce suddenly looked intimidating. Not that he thought his father would _intentionally_ hurt him, but the other guy responded badly to bad news.

As it was, Michael was trapped between the proverbial rock and a hard place with only one course of action – telling the truth.

"Mom only called them because she thought Owen was turning green," he whispered.


	9. Calm Before the Storm

Abigail went from talking to Steve straight to her daughter's room to find the kids. She wasn't quite sure how they would be feeling, but she wanted to be there for them.

Sophie was seated at her desk chair with her back to the wall, scrolling through something on her tablet. Owen was sitting cross-legged on the floor by the bed with a stack of paper and a box of crayons. Michael was not there, but Abigail suspected he was downstairs trying to eavesdrop on his father.

She walked in and sat down beside Owen without a word. He smiled up at her and spread out the three drawings he had already finished.

One was of Bruce walking out of the jet with a big smile. Another was of the Avengers seated in a line at the dining table, including Bruce even though he was not on that side during breakfast. The last drawing was of their family hugging each other, with all five people beaming out of the paper.

Abigail whispered her praise of his attention to color and how happy everyone looked, hugging Owen with one arm. He smiled wider and then showed the half-finished drawing on his clipboard. This one was of Captain America and Owen, and they both donned red, white, and blue uniforms and shields.

Owen was very direct about trying to imitate Steve Rogers. Abigail knew her other children likewise attempted to emulate qualities of their father's teammates, but they never outright announced it the way Owen did.

His dinnertime declaration would have been cute if he didn't unevenly snip off his own hair and throw the cut locks onto the food they were about to eat. That was not a fun meal.

After that incident, Abigail expressed her concern to a colleague in the psych department who she trusted with personal information about her family. He assured her it was normal and told her to just encourage any original interests or personality quirks that did not stem from the children's idols. Eventually, they would realize they were perfect the way they were and didn't need to change in an attempt to "earn" Bruce's attention or love.

At least, that's what she hoped would happen.

For the time being all three were still pretty set on being more like the Avengers. Owen's drawing confirmed that much. Abigail smiled at this picture too and Owen continued working on it. She rubbed his back and looked at Sophie.

Sophie was busily reading, but she started explaining what it was she had been studying once she realized she was being watched.

"Michael said they were on the news so I looked it up. It doesn't say why, but Iron Man and Hulk fought in South Africa last night and destroyed a city. The cops want to arrest them for it, so that's probably why everyone is hiding here."

Abigail nodded. "That reasoning sounds plausible to me. How does it make you feel?"

Sophie clicked off the tablet and thought for a moment. She scrunched up her eyebrows and pulled on her ear, looking over at the drawings on the floor.

"I guess kind of upset because they're only here to hide. But they could've hid somewhere else so dad must have wanted to see us. Plus we get to meet everyone else and see Tasha again, which is good. So I'm happy," she said, her face going from a half-frown to a full smile.

Sophie's hand immediately went from her ear back to the tablet, and Abigail knew she was longing to return to the news stories about the Hulk.

"I'm glad you're happy. I agree that they came here because dad wanted to see us again," Abigail responded, turning her face to Owen but glancing through her lashes at Sophie.

Sophie turned her attention back to the small screen, relieved that she was free. That was another one of Abigail's silly rules – No Tech When Talking. If someone was talking, you had to turn off or turn away from the computer, phone, etc. The kids didn't always like it, but Abigail hated not having people look her in the eye during conversations.

Abigail smirked at her daughter and turned back to Owen. She watched him finish the Captain America picture and grab another piece of paper.

On this one he drew the outlines for a man with curly hair and a little boy, then immediately colored in brown eyes on both people. It was Bruce and Owen – holding hands and smiling widely.

"Since your picture people are smiling and happy, does that mean you feel happy, too?"

"Yep. Dad's back and we're all together," he said, not looking up from his drawing.

Abigail saw that, at the moment, these two _were_ happy with everything that was happening. She couldn't push down the feeling that things were going to go south very soon, though.

 _If they're happy now, let them be happy,_ she thought to herself. _It will make up a little for how sad they'll be when he leaves and takes out the murder robot…_

 _That is, if he can take it out._

From what Clint had told her in the kitchen, they already got their asses kicked once by this thing. That was just with one robot and two super humans – how could they possibly take on those three _and_ a "perfect form" _and_ a legion of more drones?

Until that moment, Abigail didn't consider the consequences of a loss rather than a victory against the robot. This Ultron didn't just want to kill the Avengers; it wanted to eliminate all humans on the planet.

And as far as she knew, the only being capable of getting her and the kids off the planet had flown away after breakfast.

Abigail's stomach filled with dread. She couldn't imagine losing her children, having their lives end at the hands of a merciless robot army. The people who actually had a chance at saving everyone's lives were in her house – busy washing their hair.

 _Not all of them are in the shower, though. The two who invented the fucking murder bot are available for a nice little chat right now._

Abigail kissed Owen's cheek and stood up to kiss Sophie. As calmly as she could manage, she smiled and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. As soon as the latch clicked, her smile faded and turned into something much darker.

There was no force on earth that was going to keep her from chewing out the fools who put her children in danger. If she had to, she would face down Ultron – and in momma bear mode, you can bet she would win.

* * *

After Bruce walked out of the room with his son, Tony stood by the window for a few minutes. He was trying, and failing, to put a name to what he was feeling.

 _Anger? Why should I be angry with Banner? It's not like we're friends or anything. It's not like we've been in each other's presence every damn day for the past three years._

Tony smacked a hand on the windowsill and started pacing. Though the room was long, it wasn't very wide, and he intentionally walked the shortest distance he could to keep fueling his indignation.

 _He has every right to have a family and not tell me about it. But I would never do that, so I guess that makes me the bigger person._

Tony scoffed, stopping in front of the grandfather clock that was at one end of his path. They had only been at the house for a little over an hour, but he was ready to leave already.

He was tired, dirty, and hungry (since his astonishment had unfortunately dulled his appetite for breakfast), and he was in no mood for staying at Bruce's secret family's house for the day.

He turned around and paced back to the window. All he could see from this view was a tree with a tire swing, a pile of unchopped wood, a picnic table, and a mailbox. Beyond were only trees.

Tony never cared for the country, so he decided to get worked up over that, too.

 _Ugh. Why would his secret family want to live on a farm in Nowhere, Ohio? The least they could do is live somewhere civilized. Laying low doesn't mean hiding in cow crap; we could have gone to… to… Hell, we could be anywhere else but here._

Tony shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. The TV was still on, which was irritating beyond belief, so he stomped over to it to turn it off.

While searching for the remote, he couldn't help but listen to the over-jubilant crustacean blather on about a dollar. Tony frantically shoved couch cushions aside and finally found the remote.

"Actually, it's coral blue number– _SMACK_ "

Tony pushed the off button, but the TV stayed on. He pushed it again, and again, smacking the remote before trying one last time. When it still stayed on, he chucked the remote back at the couch and walked up to the TV.

"I trusted you, and you gave me this? I can't believe me own crew would betray me like–"

The screen went blank, but Tony almost considered turning it back on.

 _Betray – that's it. That's exactly what it's called when someone you trusted lies to you._

Bruce was outside trying to reconnect to his long-neglected son, but Tony had a bone to pick. Without really planning on what he was going to say, he strode out of the living room, around the dining table, and through the front door.

Once on the porch, Tony paused to figure out where they went. His eyes scanned the area and landed on the open barn door. He resumed his angry march across the lawn, fully intending to give Bruce a piece of his mind.

But once he was a few yards away from the door, his resolve wavered.

 _What are you doing, Tony? Are you really gonna yell at him in front of his kid?_

Tony sighed, frustrated. If there were any rocks or buckets conveniently lying around, he would have kicked them to vent some of his anger. He settled for kicking at a lump of grass, pissed off that there weren't any rocks to kick.

 _Great! Now I'm so mad I'm beating up grass. What a fine, sunny day to make you hate life._

He heard shuffling feet in the barn and went still. Michael's quiet voice barely carried out of the open doorway.

"I don't think you'll hurt me. You only turn green for the Avengers now, when you want to do it."

Bruce stammered and abruptly asked how long the family had been living here. Tony listened harder, not realizing he was stepping closer to the door.

 _So they didn't always live in Hicksville… and SHIELD always knew about the family. That's interesting. Banner keeps things from me, SHIELD keeps things from Banner, and the family gets the short end of the stick._

Tony shook his head slowly. Nothing quite worked like eavesdropping to put things in perspective. Bruce's voice was gently rumbling in his ears, but he didn't try to listen anymore.

That is, until he heard the boy speak up in a strange voice. The effect on Bruce's voice was extreme.

"Only because what?" he asked sharply.

Several things happened at once – Tony instinctively walked through the door to calm Bruce down, Abigail came storming up behind him, and the boy squeaked out a reply.

"Mom only called them because she thought Owen was turning green."


	10. Hole in the Wall

Abigail only overheard the tail end of the conversation, but she knew what it was about. And based on how much Bruce's hands were shaking, she had to get her son out of there immediately.

"Michael, go to your sister's room. Don't leave the house until I say so," she commanded, shouldering Tony out of her way.

Her eyes never left Bruce as Michael crept around the edge of the walls and ran out of the barn, tripping over his feet in his haste. Abigail mentally prepared herself for what was to come.

"You said Owen was fine," Bruce said, voice quavering. He kept his back to her, and Abigail knew it was an attempt to keep control. "You _lied_ and said Owen was fine."

"Yes, I did. You think I was going to announce it to SHIELD? You think I was going to risk having him taken away? I've managed to keep this a secret from _everyone_ , Bruce. The only people who knew were me, Owen, and Michael."

"How bad is it?"

Abigail clenched her jaw. Not for the first time that morning, her temper flared in response to Bruce's audacity to judge her actions.

"You've picked a fine time to take an interest in your family, Bruce," she said, glaring in disgust at the back of his head. "It couldn't have happened just because you wanted to see us – oh, no. You had to go off and create a fucking murder bot with your friend here and _then_ decide to make a side trip home."

Bruce's shoulders were shaking now, but Abigail didn't notice. Her own fury was consuming all of her attention.

Tony, however, realized the danger they were in. He laid a hand on her arm and tried to pull her back, speaking in a hushed voice.

"Maybe now's not the best time to–"

"Now is the _perfect_ time, because it is quite possibly the _only_ time we'll have to talk."

Abigail wrenched her arm from his grasp and stepped closer to Bruce. "You had your chance to destroy that robot and you failed. Now, it's going to try and kill everyone on the planet – not just you and your pals."

Bruce didn't speak or move; he just kept shaking. Abigail couldn't believe what was happening. It was like she was reliving that horrid night from five years ago.

But this time she recognized what could come next, and knew that yelling was rarely if ever the way to solve a problem.

She ran a hand through her hair and took deep breaths, trying to calm down. It was impossible to completely cool off knowing how much was at stake, but she felt much calmer when she placed her hand on Bruce's arm and turned him to face her.

"Our children are in danger, Bruce. What the hell are you going to do about it?"

* * *

Tony was holding his breath the whole time Abigail was yelling. He had watched Bruce turn into the Hulk firsthand, and it was not pretty.

His armor was on standby, just waiting for the proper gesture to be activated. Somehow, though, he didn't need it.

Abigail got a grip on her anger and was silent for a minute, during which Bruce gradually stopped shaking. Tony finally breathed a sigh of relief. High-stress environments were never pleasant, but for Bruce they were a nightmare.

Tony moved to try and get between Abigail and Bruce, intending to take Bruce out for a calming walk through the trees and away from his angry wife.

But Abigail moved first, not even realizing Tony had stepped nearer. She grabbed Bruce and spun him around roughly.

Tony winced and stepped back again, afraid it might tip the scale in favor of the Hulk. Bruce didn't turn though; he just stared through her like she wasn't there.

"Our children are in danger, Bruce," Abigail said, sounding like she was ready to either fight him or cry. "What the hell are you going to do about it?"

Bruce's face remained blank, which Tony assumed was a defense mechanism against changing.

 _If turning off emotions keeps him normal,_ Tony thought, _more power to him._

After what Tony just heard, he was glad Bruce was able to shut down like that. If the littlest kid could turn into a green rage monster, and Bruce was blaming himself for it, the best outcome right now was to have everyone chill out for a minute.

Of course, Abigail chose that moment to slap Bruce in the face.

* * *

Natasha stepped out of the shower and toweled off methodically. She put on her borrowed clothes and grabbed a comb from the shallow cabinet behind the mirror, running it through her hair until all the tangles were gone.

Once she put it back, Natasha regarded herself in the slightly foggy mirror. Her split lip was mostly healed, and the bruise on her upper arm was already fading. She massaged the faint purple mark and rolled the long, dark sleeve down to hide it.

Overall, she appeared as she should. But she just couldn't completely banish the preoccupied look in her eyes. She closed her eyes to refocus, measuring her breathing and emptying her mind.

When she opened them again, the look was gone. The woman in the mirror was completely emotionless. It was the woman who could kill someone without flinching, but not the woman Natasha was now. Slowly, she let her personality creep back in.

Her eyes softened, her jaw slackened, her eyebrow quirked, and a hint of a smirk appeared on her lips. She stopped just before that look reappeared.

There was loud thumping as someone stomped out of the house, and Natasha's training kicked in.

 _Fewer than a dozen steps,_ she thought, _ground floor. Sounded like Tony._

She opened the door in time to hear someone else rush down the stairs. Moving silently down the short hallway, she watched Abigail half-run out the front door.

Natasha did a quick check of the kitchen and living room before looking out at the barn. The hairs on the back of her neck rose at the peculiar stillness of the building.

Something was going to happen – something bad.

"Clint," she shouted up the stairs. He appeared at the top and nodded.

"I've got two and Cap. Go."

Without another word she spun around and walked out the front door. There was nobody on the lawn.

 _Two kids and Steve are upstairs. Tony and Abbey went for the barn. Bruce and the other kid must have already been inside._

As she thought that Michael ran out and fell in the doorway, but quickly picked himself up and bolted for the house. Natasha met him in the middle and put her hands on his shoulders to get a quick explanation.

"Dad… dad's mad," he panted, edging toward the house. "I said something, and now mom's mad too. Please, I don't want–"

Natasha took in his fear and tears in his eyes. Wordlessly she removed her hands and he continued running. She heard his feet pound up the porch steps as she sprinted to the barn.

Natasha slowed when she got a few yards away, making no noise. She couldn't quite make out what Abigail was saying, though from the tone it was clear she was angry.

Natasha peered through a crack between two boards near the door. From this angle Tony's back half-blocked her view, but she could still see the side of Abigail's face and Bruce's trembling shoulders.

Abigail put a hand on her hip and another in her hair, trying to calm down. Tony crossed his arms and hugged himself. Bruce held his breath in one-minute intervals and finally stopped the shaking.

Abigail reached out and pulled Bruce around so she could see his face. Natasha had a full view of his face – and his dead eyes.

Clint's voice came through her earpiece as Abigail tried to get a response from her husband.

"Mike just filled me in. We're listening, but I have no visual. Try and keep them calm, Nat; the kids don't need to see this get ugly."

Abigail slapped Bruce, and Clint hissed his displeasure. Even if he couldn't see it, there was no mistaking the sound of a strong smack.

"Too late for that," Natasha replied, pulling a syringe gun from the utility belt under her shirt. She waited at her post to see if she would need it.

Bruce's eyes came alive and he glared down at Abigail, prompting Tony throw his arms up defensively and step back until he hit the wall. Now Natasha could see everything in the room. Her eyes flicked to the coils of rope in one corner and the long tow chain hanging on the far wall.

 _Inject syringe, throw rope around neck, chain arms back. Tony will help with his armor–_

As she thought it the suit came flying at her. Natasha dropped and the armor smashed through the wall, sending a shower of wood splinters to rain down on her head. She rolled over to the door and crouched to reassess the situation.

Bruce was standing in front of Abigail, his arms thrown back to protect her. When the smashing sounds ceased she craned her neck over his shoulder to look wide-eyed at the gaping hole in the wall. Tony had one palm out, ready to fire.

Though his skin had a green twinge to it for a few moments, the color faded to its normal peach and Bruce slowly lowered his arms. He looked slightly embarrassed and slightly irritated. Abigail stepped up next to him and surveyed the damage.

Clint's voice sounded in Natasha's ears again, much more urgent than before.

"Nat, what the hell was that?"

She was about to reply when Abigail started yelling again.

"What the hell, Stark?! It's not enough to destroy the planet, so now you have to destroy my property – is that it?"

Tony kept his arm up as he turned just his head to look at the wall.

She couldn't see his face through the armor, but Natasha knew the expression he had on his face. It was the one he saved for those times he royally screwed something up and only just realized it, like when he hired Natasha and found out she worked for SHIELD, or when he presented Pepper with deadly strawberries.

Tony self-consciously dropped his arm to his side and scratched his helmet. Then he mumbled out an apology that made Abigail roll her eyes.

Natasha stood and slipped the syringe back in her belt without anyone noticing. She then brushed the dirt off her shirt and headed back to the house, tapping the earpiece to reply to her partner.

"Tony summoned his suit. Banners are about to tag team him. Situation much calmer. I'm out."

* * *

Bruce was furiously trying to keep control of his anger. Though he never expected it would be difficult to keep in control around his family, he had never been slapped by his wife before.

He didn't even feel the slap, but the other guy started pushing to be released. It was like someone was trying to rip him apart from the inside out, and resisting only made the pain worse.

Bruce would gladly take any pain to keep from changing and hurting people, though he could feel his power against the other guy start to slip.

He heard something whizzing through the air, and he and the other guy agreed that it was dangerous. The other guy wanted to go and attack it, so Bruce ran a few steps forward to give in but stopped short so he was standing just in front of his wife.

As the barn wall exploded from the impact of the projectiles, Bruce closed his eyes and threw his arms back to keep anything from hitting Abigail.

He could feel the transformation begin.

It always started in his chest, with his muscles growing thicker and his skin beginning to stretch. Then it would spread down his torso to his arms and legs. His head was the last thing to go, which is how Bruce always knew what was happening.

The transformation could happen in the blink of an eye if he let it. But he fought it back, wanting to see what was happening with a clear head.

Bruce opened one eye and saw the lit eyes of the Iron Man suit through a cloud of dust. Though Tony had a hand raised and ready to fire, Bruce relaxed and fought the transformation entirely. After a moment he felt his body return to normal.

He sighed in frustration at the damage caused by his condition. Even when the other guy didn't come out, it seemed there was always something else bad happening to make up for it. This time, it was the barn being demolished by a well-meaning friend.

Abigail walked up and stood next to him, close enough to brush arms. It was ridiculous, but Bruce got goose bumps everywhere they were touching. His skin was always extra-sensitive after a transformation (or near transformation). Then again, he usually got goose bumps from being near her.

Bruce was most surprised at his wife's willingness to be so near him after what had just happened. He considered holding her hand, but decided against it because of their audience, one of whom was being chastised by Abigail at that very moment.

"What the hell, Stark?! It's not enough to destroy the planet, so now you have to destroy my property – is that it?"

Tony looked at the wall and stammered.

"That – Did you not see –" The mask turned to Bruce for help, but Bruce only raised his eyebrows in response. Tony ducked his head and ran a metal hand over his helmet.

"I'll pay for that," he mumbled, managing to apologize without saying the word sorry.

Abigail huffed in frustration, rolling her eyes and avoiding looking at Tony. Natasha stood in the doorway and adjusted her shirt. Bruce was surprised he hadn't noticed her there before, but she walked away without interfering.

Bruce worried about how much she had heard.

 _If Abbey kept Owen's condition a secret,_ he thought, _somehow she made it look like epilepsy and tricked SHIELD. But if Natasha or the others overheard us, what will they do to him?_

Bruce looked at Abigail and saw the same worry he felt cross her face. They both turned to Tony, who flipped up the golden face of his helmet to return their gaze.

Bruce intended to keep the peace between his friend and his wife, and avoid another ugly confrontation, but Bruce's resolve was no match for their fiery temperaments.

Before he could draw a breath to speak, Abigail threatened Tony.

"You better keep your mouth shut, Stark, or I swear I'll–"

"So how exactly did you manage to fool them?" Tony interrupted, taking a few steps forward so he could keep his voice low. "SHIELD knows more about anything than anyone, with very few exceptions."

"I did what I had to do, which is what I'll do if you try and say something to them."

"Tony won't say anything," said Bruce, trying to fit in a word before the shouting began. "You may not like him, Abbey, but I trust him."

She rounded on Bruce, not believing he was actually telling her to trust Tony with something as important as her son's life. But Bruce truly did trust him, and he tried to nonverbally convey that to Abigail.

After a moment her eyes softened, and Bruce knew she would trust his testimony on Tony's fidelity. Still, she gave Tony a hard look before speaking to him.

"I want your word that you won't do anything else to jeopardize my children's lives."

It seemed that Tony was about to spout off a snarky comment, but somehow he bit it back.

"I promise. Your secret's safe with me," he replied.

Abigail nodded and squeezed Bruce's hand, which he hadn't realized she had been holding. She walked slowly out the door, throwing one pained glance at the destroyed wall before going back to the house.

Bruce breathed a sigh of relief at her dropping the whole wall issue. He hazarded a smile, which Tony returned after a pause. Tony shook his head and laughed a little, admiring his handiwork.

"You know, you really had me worried back there," he said, stepping over wood chunks and through the ragged hole.

Bruce grimaced and picked the clear path through the doorway, trying to come up with an appropriate apology for almost murdering his friend for the second time in twenty-four hours.

"I'm sorry that–"

"You should be! She almost ripped my head off back there!"

Bruce tiredly chuckled and followed Tony to the jet. Not for the first time, he was thankful to have a genius, billionaire, playboy, narcissist on his team.


	11. Back to Work

Steve walked out of the upstairs bathroom still dabbing at his wet hair with a towel. His dirty uniform was folded and tucked under one arm, and his shield was strapped to his back. He wore clothes that Abigail grabbed for him after coming in from the barn, which was an awkward exchange because he (and everyone else) had been listening in on the fight between her and Bruce.

Steve had already been upstairs when the disagreement began. Though he missed the first part, he had joined Clint and the two younger kids when he heard the screen door slam.

Together they listened and attempted to watch what happened on a tablet computer that was tapped into the jet's surveillance equipment. All the yelling caused the kids to panic; so much so that the little boy even ran to Steve for comfort.

Once the fight was over and Bruce managed to keep from Hulking out, Abigail came upstairs and sat her children down for a talk, pausing only to dig out some of her husband's old clothes from a cardboard box in the hall closet for Steve.

Now that he was showered and clear-headed, Steve glanced around for a laundry hamper and saw Owen sitting against the wall with a paper folded in his hands. He looked up at Steve and smiled faintly, all traces of earlier tears gone.

"Hey, what's that?" Steve asked, tossing the towel back onto the bathroom counter. He crouched down to get a closer look at the paper.

Owen unfolded it and showed him a scribbled drawing of two people wearing the Captain America uniform. Steve guessed at who it was.

"Is that us?" he asked. The boy nodded and smiled wider. "That's a very good drawing. You should hang that on the fridge."

Owen shook his head and pushed the paper into Steve's hands. Steve took it and looked at the boy's eyes.

Clint had made a passing comment when Steve was holding Owen that they looked "scary alike," but Steve knew that was only because of their similar hairstyles and reserved smiles.

He was more struck by Owen's eyes. They were exactly the same shade as Bruce's, and held the same intense expressions. Owen also shared his father's knack of saying what he was thinking without uttering a word.

So Steve accepted the drawing and smiled, which prompted Owen to stand up and take Steve's hand, dragging him towards one of the rooms with all his weight. Steve stood up and followed at a crouch to keep from breaking their contact.

When they walked through the doorway, Owen dropped Steve's hand and ran to a corner to get something out of his dresser. Steve stopped where he was and looked around at the symmetry of the room.

It was divided exactly in half, with an imaginary line going from the door to the window. Each side had a bed, desk, bulletin board, dresser, and bookshelf arranged in nearly identical places; only the closet by Owen's side and personal decorations threw off the illusion.

 _He must share the room with his brother,_ Steve thought. He felt that was strange, considering the number of rooms in the house. But then he saw a small machine on the floor by Owen's bed and remembered the seizures.

Owen spun around, hiding something behind his back. Steve gave him a fake wary look out of the corner of his eye and the little boy laughed. Jumping up on his bed, Owen raised his arms and revealed a small, plastic replica of the Captain America shield.

Steve laughed and tossed his uniform on the bed to free his hands. It slipped off the edge as he pulled the shield off his back and secured it on his arm. Owen's jaw dropped. He reached out a hand and slid it across the smooth surface.

"Vibranium," he whispered reverently. Steve nodded.

Owen knocked on it a couple times and then held his toy shield up for comparison, frowning.

"You could hide behind yours, but mine is too small," he complained.

"I'm sure we could find a bigger one for you," Steve said consolingly, "though this is all the vibranium we have at the moment."

"What if you drop your shield? Then bad guys could hurt you."

Steve was about to explain the magnetic gadget on his uniform that could recall the shield from a distance when Owen started excitedly jumping on the bed.

"Wait! Dad said it bonds with things like metal."

"Yes it does–"

"Could it bond with nonmetals? Then you could just put the vibranium in your skin! Or in your skeleton! Then you would be just like…"

Steve froze and considered what the boy just said.

 _Banner said vibranium was capable of bonding with most other metals and elements,_ he thought, _so what about organic compounds? What about living tissue?_

Ultron's comment about evolving, and his not-so-subtle Pinocchio reference, convinced Steve that he was going to make a living body.

"A living body enhanced with vibranium," he whispered. "But how can he do it?"

Steve slung his shield on his back and held out a hand to Owen. The boy took it and together they went downstairs in search of some answers. This just might be the breakthrough they needed to stop Ultron before it was too late.

The drawing and Steve's uniform lay in a pile on the floor, forgotten.

* * *

When he got the all clear from Natasha, Clint went outside to meet her.

Though he, Steve, and the kids had been listening and watching what happened on Sophie's tablet, thanks to Clint hacking into the jet's surveillance equipment, there was a badly-placed wall in his way up until the end of the fight. He wanted to know what _exactly_ happened from someone who saw it go down.

"That was exciting," he said casually as Natasha walked up the porch steps.

She leaned against the railing next to him, mirroring his posture and his tone.

"Very. I'm surprised Tony only has to buy a new wall and not a whole barn."

Clint stood up straight to break their sync and started walking the length of the wrap-around porch. Natasha walked beside him, copying his stride.

"What exactly started it?" he asked, trying not to get annoyed. "Mike just said he made Bruce mad, not how."

"I'm not sure. There's something fishy, though; Bruce was losing it even before she slapped him."

Clint scowled in concentration and slowed his pace.

"It's not like him to get huffy over nothing. He _has_ been working with Stark for the past few years, so you'd think he'd be immune to anything his kid could say."

"Unless it was something about one of the other kids," she said, stopping by the back steps.

When Clint looked over at her Natasha was staring at the barn, her face concerned.

"Do you notice anything?" she asked suddenly. Clint caught on immediately.

"There's no noise coming from the barn," he replied, tapping his earpiece. "It's still on, and they're still in there. So…"

"So Stark is jamming the signal," she finished, hurtling over the railing and heading for the back of the barn.

Clint followed close behind, making almost as little noise as her. The moment they rounded the back corner, they heard Abigail's voice.

"I want your word that you won't do anything else to jeopardize my children's lives," she said angrily.

To their surprise, there was no sarcasm in Tony's voice as he promised to keep their secret. Clint and Natasha exchanged a look as they waited for the three people to leave the barn.

Once it was empty, Clint sat down on the grass and Natasha leaned her back against the wall.

"Your secret's safe with me," Clint quoted. He pondered the meaning for a moment.

"A secret about one of the kids?" Natasha guessed.

"Must be something important to get Bruce _and_ Abbey riled up like that."

Natasha shrugged and said, "We'll find out eventually; we always do."

"Yeah," Clint agreed, "Though 'eventually' would happen faster if Coulson were still around."

"You're probably right. I don't think Abbey hated him the way she hates us."

There was a pause as they thought of their late friend.

"You know, I kind of miss the guy. He didn't question when you followed your gut," Clint said, reminiscing of a long-ago mission. A glance at Natasha showed she was thinking of the same thing.

"Budapest," she said with a smirk. "You didn't tell them everything about that mission, did you? Or Laura."

Clint dropped the grass he had been picking at and stood, shaking his head.

"We agreed that SHIELD didn't need to know everything," he replied. "And Laura knows more than enough about our past to fill in the blanks herself."

He led the way back to the house as Natasha snickered behind him.

"If we live through this, remind me to tell her about that dance," she said.

Clint stopped in his tracks and spun around to face her. They were close to the open front door so he tried to keep his voice low.

"Nat, don't do it," he warned. "She's been trying to get me to dance since our wedding; if she finds out I danced for a _shopping mall opening_ –"

He stopped talking when he heard footsteps just inside the house. Steve came through the door accompanied by Owen, looking concerned.

"What's up, Cap?" Clint asked, still a little creeped out by their likeness.

"Where are Stark and Banner? I might have a lead on Ultron," Steve replied.

"I'll get them. We should do this inside," Natasha said, already walking to the jet.

Clint walked up the porch steps, ushering Steve and Owen in before him. The family drama had made the morning memorable, even _pleasant_ compared to what was hanging over them, but it was time to get back to work.

* * *

Abigail sat on the sofa with her arms wrapped around her older children. With each passing moment she was becoming more and more aware of just how reckless she had been in the barn. If things went south, it could have endangered her entire family, not just herself.

She swore under her breath and Michael misinterpreted it as a scolding.

"Mom, I'm so sorry," he began, starting to cry again.

Abigail rubbed his arm and swore silently.

"It's not you, sweetie. Like I said, I am not mad at you, and neither is your father," she said gently, kissing the top of his head. She sighed deeply. "Today has just been really tough, and I regret putting you and your siblings in this spot."

After her initial check-in with the three of them, Owen had decided to wait upstairs to give Steve one of his drawings. He somehow seemed to take comfort during the fight in his hero's arms and didn't need much from his mother.

The other two, however, clung to her sides for reassurance. Abigail tried her best to convince Michael that nothing was his fault, but he had an anxious temperament and wasn't easily persuaded.

"Your dad and I had a fight. If it weren't for the other guy, things would have gone smoother. But we can't pretend that my yelling wasn't dangerous, so I'm sorry. I'm sorry you had to hear us fight, and sorry I put you in danger."

"Are you going to fight again?" Sophie asked quietly.

"No," Abigail promised. "We will discuss things calmly, just the two of us, and then we will talk as a family. No more fighting."

They sat together silently for a few minutes. The house was almost completely silent, so Abigail heard Owen's laughter float down the stairs.

 _At least one of them is happy_ , she thought. _I wish today didn't have to be so damn difficult._

Abigail's mind wandered to her usual Saturday routine. Any other week, she would be starting laundry and joining the kids in a movie right now. Instead, she had to plan a reconciliation with her long-absent husband and figure out a way to shield her kids from a murder bot.

"What happens now?" Michael asked, his voice still croaky.

Abigail considered his question. She supposed she could try and talk to Bruce now, before anything else bad happened, but she wanted a little more time to think.

"I don't know," Abigail answered honestly. "I guess we just wait and see."

As fate would have it, they didn't have to wait very long. Steve came down the stairs with Owen and into the living room.

"Where's everyone else?" Steve asked, looking around.

"Must be outside. Why?" Abigail responded. She stood up and Sophie came with, gripping her hand tightly. Michael stayed hunched in the sofa.

"I think I – I think _we_ figured something out," he said, turning to go outside.

Abigail called Owen to her, but he followed Steve out the door. Worried, she took Michael's hand and dragged her kids to the front window.

After a moment Steve and Owen came back in with Clint. Abigail saw Natasha by the jet and figured she was collecting Bruce and Tony.

Clint saw the fear in Abigail's eyes and spoke quietly to her.

"Steve says he might know Ultron's next move. We're going to make a plan together, and I think you and the kids should be here for it."

Abigail nodded and led Michael and Sophie to the dining table, sitting herself between them and coaxing Owen to sit in her lap. She felt stronger having her children close, and less vulnerable without an empty chair beside her.

Steve and Clint took the same seats from breakfast and the group was silent. Normally Abigail hated silence, but right now it was what she needed to calm her nerves.

When Bruce, Natasha, and Tony finally filed in and sat, Abigail took a deep breath.

 _Here we go._


	12. Wants and Needs

"Bruce, you said vibranium could bond with other elements," Steve began. "What about living tissue?"

Bruce was stunned for a moment. He looked over at Tony, who looked just as surprised as he felt. Tony considered the possibilities as his friend hesitatingly replied.

"I suppose it _could_ ; I mean, nobody's ever tried it before so there's no way of knowing for sure."

"What are you thinking, Steve?" Natasha asked.

"Ultron said, 'In the flesh, or at least not yet.' It's obsessed with a living body, so is it possible to fuse vibranium with human tissue using the scepter as some sort of catalyst?"

The question was directed at the scientists at the table, but the answer came from someone unexpected.

"No way," Michael said, shaking his head. He turned red when he realized he spoke out loud but quickly explained his reasoning. "It's just, your cells would die if they were mixed or substituted with metal. It's one thing to replace a joint, but you can't replace an entire skeleton or anything like that. Right?"

Tony squeezed his eyes shut and tried to reject the truth. He had figured out what Ultron was _not_ up to, but until now the pieces of the puzzle didn't fit together right. He sighed and accepted reality, already trying to come up with a plan to remedy his latest mistake.

"You're right," Tony finally said, "You're absolutely right. Even Cap's accelerated healing couldn't keep up if you tried to pump him full of vibranium. Human tissue can't successfully be fused with it."

Tony waited for someone to catch on and continue his train of thought. To his disappointment, nobody seemed up to the challenge.

" _Human_ tissue can't fuse with it, but there might be _other_ living tissue that could," he said, watching Bruce and then Clint realize his meaning. "And who do we know happens to have a machine capable of artificially synthesizing living tissue?"

"Helen Cho," Clint answered, rubbing the spot on his side that had been treated. "He's going to use the cradle and build a living body."

Tony nodded and turned to Bruce, whose face he saw was full of anxiety.

"If Ultron is in Seoul, we have to go there now before it's too late!" Bruce exclaimed, standing up. Then he stopped, seeming to suddenly remember something. He sat back down and amended his statement. "I mean, you guys have to go before it's too late."

* * *

Abigail's heart pounded in her chest. She was so torn by Bruce's resolve to remain behind.

On one hand, she wanted him to stay and never ever leave. Their recent fight notwithstanding, she loved him and wanted him to be part of their family again. On the other hand, she knew he was too strong an ally in the fight against the murder bot to watch from the sidelines.

But what was that against his own desire to remain with his wife and children? Abigail knew that was a double-edged sword of its own; he wanted to stay because he loved his family, but he also wanted to hide because he was afraid of hurting people.

 _Nothing is ever easy nowadays, is it?_ Abigail asked herself.

She glanced around the table at the uncomfortable or dumbstruck faces of the other Avengers. They definitely didn't expect their star player to quit this late in the game.

Steve cleared his throat and tried to resume the conversation.

"Alright then. If Ultron is in Seoul, we need to figure out a plan of attack. Stark, can you pull up a map of the city?"

Tony was busy watching Abigail maneuver out of her seat without moving the child in her lap and didn't catch what was asked of him. While he refocused on Steve, who had to repeat his question, Abigail took the chance to get Bruce's attention and have him follow her outside so they could talk in private.

Once standing on the porch with the front door closed, Abigail rubbed a hand down her face and decided on what she would say.

Bruce stood about a foot away, looking anywhere but at her. He looked so unhappy. Abigail took Bruce's hand in hers and stared at him until he finally met her gaze.

"Why, Bruce?" she asked gently.

Abigail already knew the answer, but this was the only way she could think of to get her husband to openly admit his mixed feelings.

"Because I love you and the kids. I'm tired of running. I'm tired of fighting. I just want – all I _ever_ wanted – was a peaceful, quiet life with my family," he replied in a half whisper.

She tilted her head to the side to express her doubt.

"And you think murder bot is just going to sit around and let you live this peaceful, quiet life?" When he didn't respond, Abigail smiled a sad smile. "They need you, Bruce. They need you _and_ the other guy to help stop Ultron. Without you, they're almost guaranteed to fail. With you, though–"

"They will have to pick up all the bodies behind me," Bruce finished her sentence.

He broke eye contact and looked down. Abigail sighed. There was something more bothering him, something he didn't want to tell her about. She guessed it had something to do with the vision created by the psycho twin.

"What are you really afraid of? If Ultron is throwing disposable metal bodies at you left and right, there will be no time for you accidentally hurt anyone else. So what else is there?"

Bruce refused to respond again, so Abigail jumped to the point.

"What was in that vision to scare you like this, Bruce?"

He finally looked up at her, and the fear in his eyes was showing more than ever before. That fear was definitely caused by what he had seen in South Africa.

Abigail stepped close and took Bruce's face in her hands, feeling the curve of his jaw and the warmth of his cheeks. He placed one hand on her hip but left the other on the railing.

"At first, she showed me my fears," he began, speaking at barely more than a whisper. "It was the last time I saw you, how it could have been worse. You lying on the ground, broken. Blood on my hands. Ripping the door off its hinges and the children screaming and…"

He stopped, and Abigail closed her eyes. She remembered every moment of the night he was talking about.

Abigail had been shocked when Bruce showed up at the back door of their California home, wearing a hoodie and tattered pants and no shoes.

She didn't know about the gamma accident, or Bruce's transformation. That had been kept hushed up by the military. She just knew her husband was in danger. So when he told her to pack up the kids and start driving, she didn't ask questions.

The moment he was talking about came just before dawn. They had driven for a couple hours in silence before coming to a motel near the state line. She pulled in and paid cash for a room, giving the clerk a fake name. When they walked into the room, Abigail put the kids to bed without realizing Bruce was leaving.

She confronted him outside of the car, slamming the door shut so he couldn't get in. That one action pushed him over the limit, and he transformed before her eyes. At first she was afraid for his life; but when he punched a gaping hole in the car roof with a giant green fist, she became afraid for her own.

Abigail vividly remembered how the monster turned to face her and growled – a terrifying, guttural sound. In her panic she backed up and fell, still scrambling to get away. And just like that it was gone, leaping off into the distance and leaving her with a mess of problems to solve on her own.

Yes, Abigail remembered every moment as if it had happened only yesterday. Over the years she also had imagined how badly it could have ended. Clearly, Bruce did too. She opened her eyes and took in his pained expression.

"She scared you into changing, then?" she asked, her voice surprisingly steady. Bruce shook his head, reaching up to take her hands in his own.

"It didn't work. When I need to calm down I think of my family, and seeing you hurt just pushed the other guy away," he said, examining their now entwined fingers.

Bruce paused and gathered his thoughts. Abigail couldn't imagine what _could_ make him give in to the other guy if his family couldn't do the trick.

He unexpectedly dropped her hands and turned to the railing again, gripping it hard enough to make his knuckles go white. The expression on his face was so different from just a minute ago; he was angrier than Abigail expected he could be without changing.

"She coaxed him out instead," he spat, expressing hatred with every word. "That… witch showed him how to get what he wanted. If he attacked the town, caused enough havoc, he could take a stealth jet and fly far away from SHIELD, the Avengers, everyone."

Abigail didn't know what to say to that. She always assumed the other guy was just a negative version of Bruce's personality. On one side of the coin was this even-tempered, kind, unimposing genius, and on the other side was an enormous, destructive rage monster.

From the way he spoke, though, it seemed like the other guy was _another_ _guy_ altogether. It was a whole other person that Bruce constantly had to restrain from hurting others.

Bruce slowly loosened his death grip on the railing and finished what he had to say.

"He wanted to escape more than he's ever wanted anything, and I wasn't strong enough to keep him contained. I've never been overpowered like that," Bruce said, sinking back into melancholy.

Abigail wanted to comfort him right then, to hold him in her arms and tell him to stay. But when she glanced through the front window and saw her children, she remembered what she had to lose if he refused to fight.

"I want you to leave."

* * *

Her words cut deep. Bruce couldn't believe he had heard her right, but then she repeated the cruel sentence.

"I want you to leave," she said blank-faced, "because that is the only way I know our children will survive this thing."

Bruce breathed a little easier once he understood the meaning behind the words, and he nodded in agreement without realizing it.

"Those people in there might want to save the world, but they won't be thinking of our family. Just imagine for a minute what would happen if you failed. Imagine what would happen to our kids–" Abigail stopped short to wipe a tear away.

"Nothing is going to happen to them," Bruce replied quietly, "Ultron doesn't know any of you exist. Even if he did it wouldn't matter, because I'll be there to stop him."

Bruce resigned himself to his fate. He would have to face the robot he helped create. He would have to face the witch and her visions. He would have to face the other guy, and forget about holding him back for once.

"I'm sorry," Abigail said, looking into the house. "I wish you could stay while the others fought. But you know what's at stake here, Bruce. You know why–"

"Yeah, I know. I know."

There was nothing else to say. At least, there was nothing else Bruce could figure out _how_ to say.

He wanted to tell her things she already knew, like how much he loved her and how sorry he was. He wanted to make her promises that he wouldn't fail, that he would come back, that he would make up for being gone so long.

"Abbey," he began, reaching for her hands once more. She let him take one hand but placed the other gently on his lips.

"I know, Bruce," she whispered. She moved her hand and kissed him lightly before stepping away. "It's time you went back inside. Your team needs to catch you up on their plans, and… and you need to say goodbye."

Bruce swallowed. He never liked goodbyes, but he knew he owed it to his family to give them proper closure before he left their lives again. He just had this sinking feeling that, for one reason or another, he wouldn't be seeing his family for a long time.

* * *

Tony kept shooting glances out the window trying to keep an eye on his friend. Yeah, they had been fighting earlier, but things were getting serious now and there was no time to waste on petty quarrels.

Though he wasn't concerned Bruce would go green, Tony still wanted him to be present while Steve was drawing up battle plans for rescuing Helen Cho and potentially stopping Ultron. If he didn't come back inside soon he would miss everything.

There was no doubt in _his_ mind that Bruce would be going with them; Bruce always did what he thought was right, and in this case fighting was the only right course of action. Even though he needed a little persuasion and encouragement, Tony saw Bruce's wife was already convincing him to leave. Tony would stamp out any lingering doubts he had when he came back inside.

Bruce shuffled in just as Steve was recapping their strategy, looking worse then when he left. He managed to smile at the kids, but when he met Tony's eyes he let his pain show through.

 _He doesn't need any extra encouragement from me,_ Tony thought. _Looks like she already put him through the ringer. That was rude of her._

Maybe it wasn't his place, but Tony decided he would have a little chat with Mrs. Banner when the war council ended. After all, he _was_ Bruce's best friend.

Plus he was Bruce's self-appointed defender. It was Tony's job to remind people Bruce was more than his condition, and he did the yelling when he knew his friend was unwilling to risk letting loose his frustration. This was one case, though, that he suspected yelling would only make Bruce more frustrated than he already was.

Steve finally declared the meeting over (after making each person sum up what their specific duty was in the mission) and announced they had 10 minutes to get ready.

Clint and Natasha stood up together and went straight for the kitchen. Steve retrieved his shield from the corner of the room and followed them. Tony watched Bruce speak quietly to his kids and lead them upstairs.

 _It's now or never,_ he thought, heading for the front door.

Natasha caught him and raised an eyebrow. She clearly didn't approve of his course of action so Tony smiled and walked out anyways, closing the door snugly behind him. Opposition only served to make him want something more. That was his life summed up perfectly.

Abigail was leaning against the railing looking very unhappy. Fortunately for Tony, she seemed to have used up all the fight in her and wouldn't be as difficult to talk to this time.

"What do you want, Stark?" Abigail asked, not bothering to look over at him.

"I wanted to talk to you," Tony said, staying by the door. "About Bruce."

She finally looked at him, but only to give a dirty look.

"Go away."

"You don't like me very much, do you?" Tony asked with a smirk. He walked up to the railing but kept a good distance away, not wanting a slap like the one she gave Bruce.

"No," she replied flatly.

Tony wasn't expecting such candor, so he dropped his usual bravado and tried to pinpoint the cause of her disgust.

"Any particular reason why?"

"Does it matter?" Abigail asked, turning to look at him. Her slapping hand looked a little twitchy.

"Well if there's something reasonable you are opposed to, I might be willing to make a few changes–" Tony started to say. The offer was genuine, because he wanted to try and at least get along with his friend's wife. But she cut him off before he could even finish making it.

"You can't change the past," she said flatly.

 _Mrs. Banner is apparently in a very flat mood today,_ Tony thought. Still he tried to make peace.

"No, but you can make up for it," he said with exaggerated niceness.

"You can _try_ ," Abigail replied, matching his condescending tone, "But that doesn't mean you will succeed."

 _At least she's not flat anymore._

"I don't accept failure," Tony stated matter-of-factly.

"Your track record would suggest otherwise," she retorted, still being condescending.

Tony usually enjoyed "discussions" like this, even when he was losing. Well, when he was losing to Pepper. But this infuriatingly stubborn person hit on Tony's sore spot; he had made a lot of mistakes lately that still needed to be remedied.

"Cut the theatrics," he asked, letting his frustration be known. "What makes you hate me so much?"

Abigail didn't respond immediately. It seemed like she was debating whether or not to be up front with Tony. After glancing at the front door, she looked him in the eye and told the truth.

"Bruce. The only thing we have in common is Bruce, so what else could it be?"

Tony shrugged.

"It could've been the weapons of mass destruction that fell into enemy hands a few years back."

"Now who's being theatrical?" Abigail asked, finally cracking a smile.

Tony smiled back. He suspected that they could be friends, or at least friend _ly_ , if he could sort out this little speed bump. Whether that could be done in Steve's ten-minute allotment was as yet uncertain.

"Fair enough," Tony said, bravely stepping into the slap zone. "So what _specifically_ about Bruce makes you pissed off at me?"

Abigail looked over her shoulder at the closed door then at the jet parked across the lawn. She paused for a moment, then looked meaningfully at Stark while tapping her ear.

 _Cut the spy feed,_ Tony thought, _easier done than said._

He tapped a command into his watch and stopped any eavesdroppers in their tracks. He had done the same thing in the barn before their talk about baby Hulk without being told; the fact that she thought of it now and not then piqued his interest.

"In general, it's your arrogance and narcissistic compulsion to make everyone look at you instead of others who deserve recognition for their accomplishments," Abigail explained. "Bruce never sought the spotlight but it wouldn't matter if he did; you're too busy flashing the cameras for lesser scientists to get attention or funding."

"The Stark Expo gives all brilliant minds a chance to expose themselves–"

"Save it, Stark. It's a chance for you to expose _yourself_ while pretending to be generous to lesser beings," Abigail interrupted.

"You gave a general reason, but I didn't hear a specific attack against myself yet," Tony reminded her. No need to linger on the Stark Expo which was, coincidentally, another mistake he had to fix because of Hammer and Vanko.

"Specifically, I was in New York last summer," Abigail began.

Tony got a knot in his stomach, because something was itching at the back of his mind. He tried hard to remember it before she could get to the punch line.

"I was a consultant for this documentary, so the producers flew me out to New York for the premiere. As soon as I checked into the hotel I caught a cab to Stark Tower. Care to guess what happened next?"

Tony knew better than to guess what happened; he already knew. Abigail accepted his silence and continued.

"I didn't even get above the first floor. Some overzealous security guard decided to harass me because I didn't have a stupid badge. I told him my name and that I was there to see Bruce. He told me to leave and make an appointment. Even after I told him I was Bruce's _wife_ , he just laughed."

Abigail glared at Tony, and he knew he deserved it. He forced himself to keep eye contact so she could get out all her anger at once.

"I refused to leave until he called Bruce. He called _you_ instead," she said with a sarcastic smile. "And instead of asking for Bruce's opinion on the matter, you presumed to answer on his behalf. I assumed Bruce must have become a very different person to allow an ass like you to run his life, so I left and never mentioned it to anyone. But believe me, I remember. And I hate you so much for it."

Tony was at a loss for words. He remembered the incident, a little too late.

At the time he treated it like a joke. Yeah, _sure_ , Bruce is married and his secret wife is downstairs waiting; and Howard Stark has actually been alive all these years working as a janitor for the President. Whatever.

Now it was clear he had made a huge mistake.

"I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to take a swing at me," he said, feeling lame even mentioning it.

"Don't tempt me," she replied curtly.

"Go ahead then," Tony said, latching onto the idea. "No gimmicks, no armor. Just go for it."

Abigail looked at him like he was being childish. He supposed he was, but there was no helping it now.

"I could take you even with the armor. Just give me ten seconds and a screwdriver," she said, seeming to consider the idea for a moment. Then she sighed and shook her head. "But that wouldn't make any real difference, would it?"

Tony scratched the back of his head, trying desperately to come up with a realistic solution. He wanted – no, he _needed_ to make amends for this somehow, but time was up.

Steve opened and walked out the front door.

"You about ready?" he asked, taking in Tony's pale face and Abigail's crossed arms.

Tony nodded mutely and turned back to Abigail. He waited until Steve was out of earshot before he spoke.

"You were right. I can't change the past, but I _will_ make up for it. I promise," he said hurriedly.

"Just keep your other promise, Stark. And make damn sure you stop Ultron."

Tony heard footsteps in the house and walked away from Abigail. He glanced back on his way to the jet, just to see the house one last time (okay, just to see if she was still glaring) but only saw her and Natasha talking together.

He kept walking and tried to remember exactly what the first promise was.

 _"I want your word that you won't do anything else to jeopardize my children's lives."_

 _Basically, don't fuck up again_ , Tony thought.

Easier said than done, especially considering what they were about to do. But Tony wasn't going to make any more mistakes.

In fact, he had an idea of how to use the cradle and _undo_ a few mistakes. He just needed a little time alone with it so nobody could interfere; they wouldn't understand. Even Bruce would probably bristle at the idea.

No, he would do it alone, and he would do it right.


	13. Till Then

Bruce sat uneasily on his daughter's bed, not wanting to have this conversation. Sophie sat on his right, Owen on his left, and Michael was perched on the edge of the chair by the desk.

He got the feeling from the way they immediately took those positions upon entering the room that this was their usual arrangement for private conversations. It made him smile a tiny bit that they had a spot picked out for him that was smack in the middle of the group.

 _It's now or never,_ Bruce thought, taking a deep breath. Fortunately for him, someone else spoke first.

"You're leaving again?" Sophie asked. From the sound of her voice, she meant it as a statement rather than a question.

"Yeah, I have to leave," Bruce said quietly. "We're going to stop Ultron before he can hurt anyone else."

"Is he gonna hurt you?" Owen asked wide-eyed.

"I don't think that–" Bruce began to reply, but Michael talked over him.

"Of course Ultron's going to hurt him," he said directly to Owen. He turned to Bruce with a determined look on his face. "We aren't stupid, dad. You don't have to lie to protect us."

Bruce was reminded of Abigail in that moment. She was never afraid to call him out when he was lying or patronizing her, and he was glad their son inherited this fearlessness.

 _He's right, though,_ Bruce thought, _it won't help them if you lie._

"I've been trying to protect you for so long now that it's kind of a habit," he explained, choosing his words carefully. "Ultron will try to hurt us, but if anything happens to me the… other guy will take over and stop it."

Michael was appeased by his honesty, and Owen mulled over this information, but Sophie had more questions to ask.

"What happens if you don't get the cradle? What happens if you _do_ get the cradle? Can the other guy protect the rest of the team from getting hurt, too?"

"Not getting the cradle is not an option right now, so _when_ we get our hands on it I'm guessing we'll destroy it and anything inside so Ultron can't use it," Bruce said, answering her first two questions without stopping to think.

 _But what about the other guy, Bruce?_ he asked himself.

There was an uncomfortable pressure in his chest as he tried to calculate how much control he could exert in another battle situation. Between that and the pain in his head, he didn't think he would have much of any power over the other guy. The thought was alarming, to say the least.

"As for the other guy, I can't predict what he will do," Bruce said honestly, still cherry-picking his words to prevent the kids from panicking. "I hope that when the time comes, he will stick to the plan and remember how important everyone is to me."

 _Stark better stay out of trouble, though, because the other guy is still pissed about Veronica._

"We're important to you, right?" Owen asked.

It hurt Bruce to hear the uncertainty in his voice. It was just like earlier when his wife had to verify that he loved her while they were standing in the kitchen. He suddenly realized that Owen had never heard him say _I love you_ in his entire life.

"Of course you're important," Bruce said feelingly. "You're my family, and I love you."

He got up and hugged his son tightly, too wrapped up in his own emotions to notice Owen was crying. When Bruce finally let go the tears surprised him.

"Hey now, don't cry. I'll be back before you know it," he said soothingly, using his thumb to wipe tears away. Owen sniffled and stuck out his bottom lip.

"You promise?"

"I promise to you, your sister, and your brother that I _will_ come back as soon as I can," Bruce swore.

He chose not to entertain the idea that something bad would happen to prevent him from keeping this promise.

* * *

Natasha definitely didn't approve of Tony's pigheaded desire to confront Abigail. In her opinion, Abbey was understandably frustrated by the events of the past few years and was handling herself very well considering everything that had just been dumped on her in one short morning. It wasn't wise of Tony to antagonize her in such a vulnerable state.

Since the surveillance equipment suspiciously cut out again during the secret conversation, Natasha figured the best way to gain intel was to ask. Clint's added presence might make Abigail feel outnumbered, though, so she motioned for him to stay inside before pushing open the screen door.

"What was that about?" Natasha asked, crossing the porch to be where Tony just stood.

"Nothing important," Abigail muttered.

 _Of course it wasn't going to be that simple,_ Natasha thought. _She just needs some gentle persuasion._

"Well, then how are you holding up?" she asked. She considered putting a comforting hand on Abigail's shoulder but opted for mirroring her posture instead. It freaked her partner out to no end, but _normal_ people responded to it positively.

"I'm fine," Abigail said. When she saw the skeptical look on Natasha's face, she altered her statement. "I _will be_ fine. Just need some time to sort through everything."

"Anything I can do to help?" Natasha asked, finally going for reassuring physical contact.

Clint's voice whispered encouragement in her ear as Abigail thought about her offer.

"That's it Nat, you can do this. It's in the bag," he said seriously. "I dare you to touch her butt."

Natasha couldn't prevent the smirk that appeared on her face, and she silently vowed to get back at Clint for its – and his – unwelcome intrusion.

"Abbey, everything's going to turn out fine," Natasha said, using the accidental smile as an opportunity to cheer her up. "After all this is done, maybe you and Bruce could do a little _dancing_ to make up for the anniversaries you missed."

Her overt meaning made Abigail smile sadly, but her subtle jab at Clint provoked a more powerful response.

"NATASHA SUZETTE ROMANOFF, DON'T YOU DARE–"

Natasha smirked wider and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, disabling the earpiece in the same motion.

 _Goodbye Clint,_ she gleefully thought. _Suzette isn't even close._

"If and when Bruce comes home, we'll be doing more talking than dancing," Abigail finally replied.

"Will you and he talk about what you and Tony were just discussing?" Natasha asked playfully. Abigail's smile disappeared completely.

"Never," she said solemnly. "You remember the trip to New York. How do you think Bruce would respond to hearing his new bestie prevented him from seeing his wife?"

Natasha knew about the New York Incident, as it was called, because she was assigned to shadow Abigail during the trip. When it happened, Natasha had been tempted to step in and force Happy to let her upstairs, or just sneak Abigail up to see Bruce herself. But that would have been stepping out of her assigned parameters: keep them apart, keep them safe.

So instead she bought wine and ice cream and they spent the evening together getting plastered. There was nothing in the rules against doing _that_.

"No, it's probably best not to mention it then. Although that gives me an idea of how I could help you sort through this emotional ordeal…" Natasha said, trying to sustain the positive tone.

It worked; Abigail smiled and even patted Natasha's arm in return for the shoulder touch.

 _Every investment counts._

"You know, that sounds like a fantastic idea," Abigail said, suddenly sounding over-friendly. "If you weren't needed to help save the world, I'd ask you to stay! But those idiots can't tie their shoes without your officious supervision, so I guess you're obligated to go."

"You're being sarcastic, Abbey. It doesn't suit you," Natasha replied. She withdrew her hand and Abigail withdrew hers.

"I don't like being manipulated, Tasha. You know that." Abigail didn't sound angry, but she wasn't in the mood to play games.

"Alright, I apologize." Natasha said, taking on a more formal tone. "Was that all you and Stark talked about? If so I don't know why you felt the need to silence our feed."

"Maybe I'd like to have a private conversation in my own house for once," Abigail huffed. She glanced around at the places she correctly thought SHIELD had planted microphones. "Really, though, it's because of Sophie. She said she knows how to hack into Barton's jet now, and I didn't want her or the other two to hear it."

"That's my bad, sorry." Clint said, walking out to join them.

Natasha looked at him annoyed, but he shrugged and stood on Abigail's other side. Even without the comms he could hear the conversation was almost over.

"You never know; it might give them comfort to spy on you guys in Seoul. Just try to keep the blood and gore to a minimum, Barton," Abigail replied.

She seemed more relaxed with Clint's presence, which irritated Natasha. He frequently gloated that he was better at putting people at ease, which was true, but Natasha had worked surprisingly hard to maintain a personal relationship with Abigail over the years.

 _Maybe we're_ _too_ _close,_ Natasha thought. _Maybe she can tell a ruse is different from normal conversation now. Damn._

"I will do my best to keep the jet, and myself, away from the gross stuff," Clint said, meaning every word. Natasha rolled her eyes at his unaffected speaking style.

"Are you finished there, Rambo?" she interrupted. "I can sense Steve's impatience from here."

"So it's time?" Abigail asked. Though she hadn't been too excited to have company over, it was clear from her tone that she was disappointed it was time for them to leave already.

"Yeah," Clint said, answering both questions. He gave Natasha a meaningful look and started walking down the porch steps.

Natasha tried to think of something genuine and Clint-like to say to Abigail to try and undo any damage she had done in the past few minutes to their relationship.

"You know, you make a kinda crappy friend," Abigail said, reading her mind. Natasha's face fell at being figured out so easily.

 _Yep, we're definitely too close._

"I'll still bring the wine when all this is over," Natasha replied, letting some annoyance seep into her words.

"You better," Abigail retorted, smiling again. "And if I don't stress eat it all while you're gone, I'll supply the ice cream."

Natasha felt surprised and rather pleased at this effortless reconciliation. She held her hand out for their customary goodbye handshake, which prompted Abigail to sigh impatiently.

"Maybe one day you'll learn how to be normal," Abigail said, shaking her hand, "But not today. Good luck, Agent Romanoff."

"Thank you, Dr. Walters. Until we meet again."

Natasha turned and quickly crossed the lawn to catch up to Clint, who had intentionally walked at a snail's pace to keep an ear on the conversation.

"I give you an A for effort but a C for implementation," he said critically. Natasha noticed he avoided using the word _execution_. "You're lucky she likes you, or else that tête-à-tête would've failed completely."

"At least she occasionally calls me by my first name. _And_ she referred to me as a friend, albeit a crappy one," Natasha countered.

"Whatever, Agent Romanoff. By the way, does Bruce know they all go by her maiden name now?" Clint asked, lowering his voice as they walked up the ramp to the jet.

"No, but I think he would understand why," Natasha said. "I don't intend to be the one who tells him, though."

* * *

Bruce slowly walked down the stairs and stopped to look around one last time.

Everything in the house had changed since the last time he had been there, but it was still the same house. Though furniture had been moved or replaced and wallpaper had been painted over, the rooms were the same size, and the views outside the windows were the same. Though things changed, they still remained the same.

It was true of his family as well; time had changed them greatly, but he still could recognize his wife and children. Sure, they were more altered that he had counted on them being, but there was no way Bruce could've predicted certain details.

He never would've guessed that he had another child, or that Sophie would resemble his mother so much, or even that shy little Michael would turn out to be outspoken like Abigail.

While looking at the framed pictures by the front door, Bruce caught sight of himself in a small mirror. He compared his reflection to the only photo of him on the wall. It had been taken at this very house, when they were visiting Abigail's parents after Sophie was born. His hair was darker, longer, and healthier looking back then; now it was peppered with gray and looking worse for wear.

In fact, everything about Bruce was looking worse. His eyes were droopy, his face lined, his chin covered in stubble…

"You could've used a shave," a voice said. Bruce tore his eyes away from the mirror and saw Abigail standing in the doorway. "You're looking a little scruffy."

Bruce ran a hand over the stubble and nodded.

"No time for that now, though," he said wistfully.

Abigail sighed and walked straight to him, wrapping her arms around him in a tight embrace. They held each other for a minute in silence. Bruce heard the jet start up through the open door and closed his eyes tight.

 _Please, just a few more minutes._

"Even though I want you to go," Abigail said sadly, "I _really_ want you to stay."

"I'll be back when Ultron is gone, but I don't know when that will be," Bruce replied, kissing the top of her head.

"Until then, I want you to have this," she said, unclasping the necklace she was wearing.

As Abigail placed it in his palm, Bruce realized it was a thumb-sized locket. Inside, one picture was of their three children sitting together on the stairs, and the other was of Abigail and Bruce at their wedding.

Seeing their wedding photo brought on a rush of memories not only of that day but of the years that led up to it. Their chance reunion in California, becoming friends, becoming roommates, becoming lovers, fighting, making up, breaking up, making up some more, dating, traveling, getting engaged, finally joining hands at their wedding…

 _Everything_ flooded back into his mind at once, but there was no time to left to talk about it. One memory stood out from the others, though, and he couldn't leave without bringing it up.

"You still have those old wartime songs from college?" Bruce asked hastily. Abigail looked surprised but nodded. "The one you really loved, the one we danced to, what was it called?"

Tears shined in her eyes as Abigail remembered that night.

" _Till Then_ ," she answered, lip trembling.

Bruce slipped the necklace into his pocket and cupped Abigail's face in his hands. They kissed briefly but deeply, finally accepting their fate.

"Till then," he whispered in her ear.

With one final kiss, Bruce walked out of the house, across the lawn, and into the jet. For the rest of his life, he would regret not looking back.


	14. Backup Plan

Wanda and her brother stood near the doorway to the lab. They had been there for hours already and the new body was just halfway complete. The only noises came from the whirring machines and Helen Cho mumbling comments under her breath.

Ultron guarded the cradle, closely observing the process unfold. Wanda unsuccessfully tried to read his mind for about the hundredth time. He might speak and act like a human, but he had no consciousness that she could tap into… yet.

"How much time until the body is complete?" he asked.

"This takes time," Helen said, focusing her icy blue eyes on Ultron. "I don't think you want to rush things and risk a faulty body."

"They'll be here before too long," Pietro pointed out impatiently.

"We need a backup plan," Ultron said, already formulating one. "We need to distract the Avengers for awhile… A hostage would work, or another showcase by our green friend."

He turned to glance at Wanda, who smirked.

"Why not both?" she asked.

Ultron regarded her with interest. She again wished she could read his mind; there was no telling what the robot was really thinking at any given moment.

"Do tell," Ultron said pleasantly. He was trying to influence her to trust him implicitly, but that was never going to happen.

"In his mind, there is a wife, children. If you take one, you're certain of his cooperation," Wanda replied.

Pietro looked at her sideways. He didn't approve of involving children in wars, especially considering their own experiences, and until recently Wanda was of the same mind. But the Avengers needed to be stopped. The fastest way to do that was to destroy them from the inside.

Ultron's frame froze, but his mind was actively searching online for signs of this family. Wanda didn't need psychic powers to know what he was up to.

"Hmm, looks like SHIELD did a good job covering their tracks. No marriage license, photos, birth certificates. Did you happen to catch any names?" he asked, becoming frustrated.

Wanda hesitated and considered the consequences of going through with this. The plan occurred to her the moment she summoned the vision for Bruce, but she never gave it any real thought before now. Pietro's loud thoughts interrupted hers.

 _These are children,_ he said, _just as innocent as you and I were. We want to punish those who are guilty, not create more victims._

She blocked him out, feeling conflicted. She didn't want to hurt anyone who didn't deserve it. Children, especially, should be spared from unnecessary pain.

 _This is necessary_ , Wanda thought to herself. _There's no other way._

"Yes," she said, ignoring her brother's continued protests. " _Abbey_."


	15. The Abduction

Steve's plan went off without a hitch. Well, sort of. They accomplished their main goal of securing the cradle, but there were a few variables that he hadn't accounted for in the original plan.

For instance, he did not expect Ultron to start transporting the cradle the moment they showed up. Ultimately that helped because Natasha and Clint were able to intercept it with relatively little difficulty. There was a tense moment where it seemed Natasha was lost or perhaps captured, but she turned up alive and well in the end.

He also had no idea that the Maximoffs would have a change of heart and turn against Ultron. This was also a plus, since their assistance was needed to stop the derailed train from injuring any civilians. (Steve wasn't quite sure how the rest of the team would react to their presence, though, so the twins agreed to help the rescue detail until he smoothed things over with the others.)

The last variable was Ultron's sudden withdrawal from the fight. The sentries didn't engage them more than was necessary, but one of the drones had the opportunity to deal significant damage to Steve's face and instead turned tail and ran.

The drone clinging to the quinjet fled at the same time, and Clint couldn't help making a comment about trying to take on the A-Team without the proper manpower. Steve heard Ultron's reply crystal clear over the coms.

"Gloat all you want, Robin Hood. Just wait till _your_ star player decides to trade teams."

With the cradle out of Ultron's hands and no further threat to the city, there was time to regroup before heading back to the tower. Steve shared what he learned from Helen Cho about Ultron's plan to destroy the planet in order to wipe out the human population; everyone was taking the news well in light of their recent victory.

Since Tony had volunteered for, or rather took over, transportation of the cradle on his way back from Oslo, the rest of the "A-Team" was left to decode Ultron's message.

The four of them stood in a loose circle around a decapitated statue Steve had crashed into during the battle. Clint and Natasha held a nonverbal conversation that he couldn't quite keep up with, and Bruce was nudging the statue's severed hand with the toe of his shoe.

Steve quietly cleared his throat so he could ask the others whom they thought Ultron was going to target, but Natasha answered his question before he could open his mouth.

"The thing hates Stark, so it wasn't talking about him," she said, looking straight at Steve. He noticed her head was slightly inclined towards Bruce.

"As much as I'd like to be number one here," Clint said sarcastically, "I don't think Ultron was talking about me, either." He kept his eyes glued on Steve as well.

Steve turned to Bruce, waiting for _his_ input before giving his own.

"Are we going to ignore the elephant in the room or can we be up front about this?" Bruce asked, digging his hands into his pockets. "I have no intention of switching sides and killing everyone, if that's what you're all thinking."

"What about the Hulk?" Steve asked directly. Bruce almost smiled.

"He'd like to have a planet to live on, so he's with us, too."

"Is there anything that could convince the other guy to change allegiances?" Natasha asked.

Bruce shook his head without pausing to think. "No, not until Ultron is out of the picture."

Steve thought back to what Ultron said. If Bruce was the star player, and Ultron wanted him to switch sides, what would it take? He pondered this while Natasha and Clint debated if Steve could somehow be Ultron's target.

Something glinted in the sun and caught Steve's eye; it was, surprisingly, a gold chain hanging out of a pocket in Bruce's jeans. As far as he knew, Bruce never wore any jewelry, and for obvious reasons.

"What's that?" he asked. Bruce pulled on the chain to reveal an oval locket. Steve got a knot in his stomach. He couldn't be sure, but he was betting it had pictures of –

"The family," Steve said, "Ultron must have his family."

Bruce took an involuntary step back. He shook his head violently, as if he could force the idea out of his head.

"Impossible. We scrubbed all traces of them, there's no way Ultron could have found out," Natasha replied. She sounded certain, but her guarded expression betrayed her doubt.

Clint conjured two cell phones out of nowhere and handed one to Natasha. They quickly typed in numbers and waited silently for a response.

Steve moved close to Bruce, not sure if he should or even could offer any comfort. Bruce had been standing still with his arms crossed tightly, but when the phone calls yielded nothing, he started pacing and breathing raggedly.

Clint tried another number as Natasha murmured something about accessing security footage. The second phone call was a bust so Clint looked over her shoulder to watch her progress.

"Any luck?" Steve asked tensely, worried both for Bruce and his family's safety.

"Still fast forwarding through today's footage. We just left, so it can't be much longer," Clint replied. After a moment, Natasha tapped the small screen. A blank look crossed her face.

"Found it," she said quietly. Bruce's head whipped up and he stared at the phone in her hands, afraid to actually watch. "From this angle it's hard to know what exactly happened, but the other two cameras were damaged."

"Is there any sound?" Steve asked.

"No," Clint replied a little too quickly.

"Liar," Bruce rasped. He gripped the locket tightly in his shaking fist and tried to even out his breathing. "Play it."

Natasha hesitated for a moment before rewinding and unmuting the video. Steve felt a chill run up his spine as the sound of the kids happily chatting suddenly filled the air.

Glass started rattling as something fast flew close by the camera. Steve knew it had to be Ultron. There was complete silence for a moment before a door was broken down.

The next few minutes were filled with screaming.

* * *

Owen sat at the kitchen table, not touching his lunch. His brother and sister were happy to talk nonstop about everything that happened and share what they learned about the Avengers and their father, but he didn't want to join in.

When they started discussing Captain America, Owen slid out of his chair to drag it away from the table. They paused their conversation briefly and switched topics to Thor.

Owen sighed as his mom put a comforting hand on his back. She didn't ask what was wrong, but he knew she was going to. He sighed again.

"I saw one of your drawings in the trash," Abigail said, pulling her chair close to his. Owen shrugged. "I thought you were going to give that one to Captain Rogers."

Owen tried to keep a straight face, but his traitorous chin started trembling. "He didn't take it."

"Honey, he liked it," she said comfortingly. "He just forgot it in the rush. He forgot his uniform, too, but that doesn't mean he doesn't like it."

"But that was all torn up. He'll just throw it away, like my picture," Owen said, furiously wiping away a tear.

"Owen, look at me." She waited until he glanced up to continue. "Soldiers _never_ just throw away their uniforms. And Captain America is the finest, truest soldier to ever live. Do you really think he would have left his uniform, or your drawing, behind if he didn't have to do something very important?"

"I guess not," he said reluctantly, still pouty. Abigail laughed lightly.

"He'll come back, Owen. So will the rest of the Avengers, including daddy. So you need to eat up and surprise them with how big you can grow in just a few days. Okay?"

Owen kept pouting but he nodded, trying not to smile when Abigail dragged his chair back to the table with her foot. He reached out to pick up his fork when something flew close by the house.

Everyone fell silent. Abigail motioned for the kids to move to the corner of the kitchen, her face drawn. Owen joined his siblings on the floor by the pantry as their mother opened the SHIELD drawer by the sink and pulled out a gun.

Everyone waited in silence. Owen's mind raced to try and figure out what was happening. The thing flew, but it wasn't a quinjet. It sounded fast and small like Iron Man, but Stark was supposed to be far away.

There was a creak on the front porch, followed by a sudden and loud bang. The front door flew off its hinges and crashed into the staircase. Owen started screaming, terrified of the enormous metal skeleton now standing in their house.

Abigail placed herself between the kids and Ultron. Without pausing she fired four shots into its head, but all that did was make it angry. Ultron snatched the gun out of her hand and picked her up by the throat, slamming her against the wall.

Owen screamed louder and clung to his brother as Sophie dashed across the room to the SHIELD drawer. The robot ignored her completely, choosing to watch Abigail turn red and gasp for breath.

"You know, you are one hard woman to find," Ultron said, almost shouting to be heard above all the crying. It placed the gun on the kitchen table and began to rip bullets out of its metallic skull. "I was hoping you'd be cooperative for your children's sake, but it seems you have a bit of a nasty streak."

When her eyes started to roll back, the robot released Abigail to fall on her face and turned to look at the kids. Owen crawled over to her, ignoring Michael's shouts, and started tugging on her sweater. He whimpered pleas for her to wake up, to get up, as Ultron continued talking.

"Michael, isn't it? I don't think your parents would approve of that language, young man, so I suggest you _be quiet_!" It rapidly drew the gun and fired a shot an inch above Michael's head into the pantry door.

Then it turned its gaze to Sophie, who stood by the counter with her hands behind her back. The robot made a show of tossing the gun away before kneeling in front of her, lowering its head to be face to face with her.

"Now, you aren't trouble like them, are you Sophie?" Ultron asked nicely. She shook her head no. "You're going to come on a little trip with me. Do you want to see your dad again?"

Sophie nodded, so the robot held a hand out for her to take. She smiled, reached her hand out, and slyly dropped something in its palm. Instantly the robot's entire arm and one of its legs started shaking uncontrollably. It roared with fury and lashed out at Sophie with its good arm, sending her flying across the room to hit her head on the oven door. The glass broke and rained down on her unmoving body.

During all this Owen had felt a pain in his chest, but it went away when he saw Abigail was awake and reaching for the gun just out of her reach. When he moved to grab it, the robot darted a leg out to kick it away.

He watched Ultron slam its palm against the floor repeatedly to destroy the device. After making a fist to check that the currents had completely stopped, it grabbed Owen roughly and tucked him under one arm. As the robot turned to walk out of the house, Abigail's voice begged it to stop.

"Please, please not my son. Take me instead." She struggled to her feet, but Ultron just shook its head in disgust.

"You shot me, and now you want a favor? I originally _had_ planned on taking you, but imagine how much more compliant your husband will be when he sees I took his little boy."

Abigail cried and begged again to trade places with Owen, but the robot talked over her as it continued out the door.

"Besides," it said cruelly, "You'll want to try to keep your daughter from bleeding to death."

* * *

Abigail knew Owen was gone. She had to watch helplessly as Ultron flew away with her baby in its arms. When they were just a pinprick on the horizon, she turned to look at her other two children.

Michael was curled up in the corner, rocking back and forth. He needed attention, but since there was no blood pooled around his body she ran to Sophie. The girl's long blonde hair was now streaked with dark red.

Abigail pulled off her sweater and pressed it to the gash on the side of her head, trying to stem the flow. The red stain grew quickly – too quickly. There was already a lot of blood on the floor, and Abigail wasn't sure how much more her daughter could stand to lose.

She was not prepared for anything like this. Sure, she had taken first aid and knew how to treat an asthma attack or a bee sting, but Abigail couldn't handle the possibility of having a child die in her arms. Even if she called 911, they could take an hour or more to pick up and transfer Sophie to the closest hospital.

SHIELD was messed up now, too, and the only agents she trusted were on another continent. There was nobody to call. Except…

"Michael, get up," Abigail said. She looked over her shoulder and saw he was still curled up. "Get up _now_!"

He slowly turned over to face her, but when he saw the blood he turned back away and threw up.

"Michael, bring me your phone." After a moment he crawled over to them, trying not to look at his sister. He pulled the phone out of his pocket and set it down next to his leg.

"You have to hold this," Abigail said. Michael took one peek at the sweater and clamped his eyes shut, shaking his head. "Hold it or she might–"

Abigail couldn't finish the thought. Keeping his eyes mostly closed, Michael reached his hands out and managed to take over. She picked up the phone once she was sure he was applying enough pressure and typed in the number she had been instructed never to call. It didn't ring, but Abigail knew he was on the line.

"Please, you have to help us," she sobbed, watching her daughter's shallow breathing. "Ultron came, and it took Owen and hurt Sophie. She needs a hospital, and I can't, I can't…"

Abigail cried harder and couldn't continue. There was no response.

Just when she had given up hope, he spoke.

"A unit is already on its way. Three minutes. See you soon."


	16. Hostage

"Are you sure about this?"

Bruce kept his back to Steve, his voice emotionless. "Yes."

He had been overcome with paralyzing fear the moment he heard the audio from Ultron's attack on his family, and the resulting numbness was the only thing preventing the other guy from coming out and ripping the jet apart.

Once again, they were headed to the farm in complete silence. Had it really only been this morning that they flew to the house? That he sat with his family at breakfast?

Bruce had known he would live to regret stepping back into their lives, but he never imagined the repercussions would be so serious, or occur so soon. His youngest son had been abducted, his daughter mortally injured, and the others whisked away by SHIELD to who knows where.

He wasn't sure if he would see his family whole again, or if they would _want_ to see him ever again. He also wasn't sure why he needed to go to the house; he just needed to maintain this numbness until it was time to face Ultron again.

Ultron was seriously mistaken if it thought taking his son would turn him into an obedient lapdog. If anything, it ensured he would be uncontrollable and unpredictable.

After what felt like an eternity, the jet finally touched down on the lawn in front of the house. Bruce remained in his seat. The others did likewise at first, but Natasha couldn't wait. She lowered the ramp and half ran across the grass, her gun drawn. Clint soon followed.

After a minute Steve walked over and sat down next to Bruce, who was now fighting the battle to stay in control. The numbness hadn't been enough to keep the other guy at bay for long.

"I don't think you should go in there," Steve said quietly. "Ultron wants you to see this because you can't handle it."

"I… I have to see," Bruce mumbled, standing up. He swayed a little, dizzy from the massive headache that was coming on. He stumbled down the ramp alone and took in the house.

It looked the same as it had this morning. The only change he could see was the absence of the front door.

He slowly trudged across the lawn and began to notice other, smaller changes. Like a broken security camera dangling from a wire, and what looked like dark, muddy footprints on the porch. When he reached the steps, he realized it wasn't mud. The other guy responded strongly, but Bruce refused to give in. Not yet.

He stepped inside and gasped. The door was lying sideways at the foot of the stairs, and the pictures that had been hanging on the wall were now scattered on the floor, broken from being trampled by dozens of feet. And the blood…

The striped rug was covered in bloody footprints. Bruce followed their trail to the kitchen, shouldering past Clint, and saw the massive pool of blood in front of the oven.

"Sophie," he whispered. He felt his hands begin to shake. With that much blood loss, there was a good chance she was already dead.

 _And it's all your fault,_ he thought. _It's your fault she's dead. You should have stayed away._

"She's gonna be fine, Bruce," Clint said. Bruce angrily glanced back and saw Clint was leaning against the doorframe for support, mesmerized by all the red.

"You don't know that," Bruce hissed, feeling his control slip more and more. Steve had been right – he wasn't prepared to see this. He turned to go back outside for the inevitable change when something rolled across his path.

Ultron's face appeared in a hologram suspended a few feet above a cylindrical projector. The tiny camera built into its side was pointed straight at Bruce's frozen face.

"Hello, Bruce," Ultron said, nodding at him. "How's the family?"

Bruce roared and moved to stomp on the device, but Clint and Natasha held him back. Ultron chuckled as the projector began to roll out of the house.

"I'm hurt, Bruce. Don't you want to hear what I have to say?"

"You killed her! You killed my daughter!" Bruce shouted, tapping into the other guy's strength to press past his restraints and pursue the projector.

"That may be true, but I have a proposition which I think you'll find irresistible," Ultron replied. The camera angle switched to reveal Owen.

"Daddy?" the boy asked tearfully. He was in what looked like a small storage room with bars locking him in. When he saw Bruce, he reached an arm through the bars. "Daddy, help me!"

Bruce stopped running and realized they were halfway between the jet and the house – the perfect place to change into the other guy.

 _This is just another part of Ultron's plan. First get you to the house, see the blood, then tell you to follow its commands or have another child die._

He felt an emptiness in the pit of his stomach and just _knew_ Sophie was dead. Now Owen was being held hostage by her murderer. Bruce had dismissed the idea of doing Ultron's bidding as outrageous and impossible, but when faced with the facts he knew he had no other choice.

Ultron reappeared and blocked the view of Owen. "Ah, that's better. I think you can guess the deal; you do something for me, I do something for you."

"What do you want?" Bruce asked, his voice barely a whisper. He stared at the hologram for further glimpses of his son.

"I want the Avengers out of my way," Ultron said pointedly. "Taking everyone out is a big order even for you, though, so I'll keep it simple. _Just_ –"

"Bruce, don't listen to it," Steve said, flanked by Clint and Natasha. They were armed and ready to fight. Who exactly they would be fighting was still unclear.

" _Bring me_ –"

"It won't just hand Owen over."

" _Tony Stark's_ –"

"You have to fight it!"

" _Corpse_."

Bruce closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Time seemed to slow down as he pulled out the locket and ran his thumb over its smooth surface.

 _A life for a life._

He dropped the locket. When his eyes flicked back open, they were bright green.

 _Sounds fair to me._

* * *

Abigail sat on a metal-framed couch across from the operating room, idly stroking Michael's hair. He had fallen asleep with his head on her lap an hour before, when they had still been unsure of Sophie's fate.

Her daughter was still being worked on, but Abigail had been assured by one of the nurses that she was out of immediate danger. Now, it was a matter of waiting to see how she was when she woke up.

Hearing the good news brought a lot of tears and put an end to the adrenaline rush Abigail had been riding for most of the day. Without it she felt almost sleepy, but she was determined to see Sophie the moment they finished operating.

Someone walked up next to her and held out a Styrofoam cup of coffee. She accepted it gratefully and took a sip, savoring the warmth.

"Thank you," Abigail said quietly, looking up at Coulson. He smiled and glanced at the double doors.

"It won't be much longer. They're just double checking everything before bringing her out," he replied.

Abigail nodded and took another drink. Even though she was grateful Sophie was going to be fine, she still had another child in danger. While her daughter's fate had been uncertain, Abigail was able to stay focused; now, she had time to consider what horrors Owen might be facing at the hands of Ultron.

She shivered and Coulson laid a hand on her shoulder.

"Owen is fine, too," he said. "The signal is still scrambled but it's there."

Abigail had not been thrilled to hear that SHIELD, more specifically Clint, had secretly implanted tracking devices into her children while she was in New York. Hearing it was Coulson's idea helped reconcile her to the news a little, as did finding out it gave information on her children's vital signals.

That was how SHIELD knew to send a medevac to the house for Sophie before she even called, and how they now knew that Owen was alive and seemingly uninjured. Unfortunately, there was too much interference for the GPS signal to give a precise location of where Ultron was hiding him.

After another few minutes the surgeon came out of the operating room. Abigail gently moved Michael so she could stand up without waking him to talk to the doctor. From a standing position, she could see through the high windows on the doors and watch the people flitting around her daughter.

"How is she?" Abigail asked, still staring at Sophie.

"I'm confident she'll make a full recovery," the doctor said, smiling. "We're keeping her under close observation for the next few days to make sure the pressure on her brain doesn't increase, but I'm not concerned about any permanent damage."

A nurse held the doors open so the gurney could be rolled out, so Abigail quickly thanked the doctor and shook his hand before waking up Michael and checking on Sophie.

The top of her daughter's head was completely bandaged, so Abigail could only see the small cuts and bruises on her sleeping face. Abigail held her daughter's hand tight, relieved to see regular deep breathing and feel her hand twitch slightly. This was already a vast improvement over when they arrived.

"She needs rest," the surgeon said, patting Abigail's arm. She nodded and gently kissed Sophie's cheek.

Michael, who held Sophie's other hand, was reluctant to let go. Abigail knew how protective he felt of his siblings, and also figured he was blaming himself for "failing" when Sophie got hurt.

"Can't I go with?" he asked. "I promise I'll be quiet."

The surgeon made a face, so Abigail looked to Coulson. He looked at her, then at Michael, before nodding at the surgeon.

"Go ahead, Michael. I'll make sure they move a couch to the room for you," Coulson said, pulling out his phone.

Abigail noticed his posture change as he read the screen. She waited for Michael to be out of earshot to ask what happened.

"Everything," he said, starting to walk away. Abigail followed. "Ultron apparently left a communicator at the house and just contacted your husband with it. The other guy is now headed to New York to kill Stark on its orders."

Abigail fell a step behind at this news. Her mind was full of worst-case scenarios for Bruce, but her heart was too full of her children to spare too much time for him. It killed her to admit it, but it was true.

"Anything on Owen?" she asked breathlessly.

"Whatever Ultron did to activate the communicator descrambled Owen's signal. We have his location and are preparing a team to go there now."

"I'm going with."

Coulson stopped and turned to face her.

"No. We can't send civilians in anywhere near Ultron. In fact, we're going to evacuate the city so when the Avengers arrive–"

"I'm not betting on them, not when Bruce is distracting everybody in New York. I'm going to get my son myself."

"I sent Clint and Natasha his location. They've done this kind of work before; I think they have a better chance of getting him away from Ultron unscathed."

"Their priority is Stark. And you know damn well Ultron is going to grab Owen the minute he sees any one of them, or any soldiers."

Coulson sighed and turned to walk away again, but she grabbed his arm.

"Please, Phil, you know how vulnerable Owen is," she pleaded. "He might turn green but only in extreme cases. He can still get hurt."

"I know," he said after a pause. He looked in her eyes for a long time. "You're not going to take no for an answer, are you?"

Abigail smiled in response.

"Then we better get you suited up."

* * *

Owen huddled in the deepest corner of his cell, shivering. He didn't like being here; the noise was too loud, and all the robots frightened him. He just wanted to go home.

He wished somebody would come and find him. Owen had a lot of time to think about who might show up first, because Ultron didn't seem to care about him once Bruce had transformed. It would walk by occasionally, but it rarely looked in on him.

When he closed his eyes, he imagined Captain America, fighting through the army of robots so he could use his shield to break the bars. Then he imagined Natasha, sneakily slipping into the cell undetected and leading him out through a secret tunnel. Then he imagined Clint, but in that scene they just sat together playing Uno.

Owen kept imagining different Avengers coming to the rescue, and even considered his mom breaking him out while wearing an Iron Man suit, but he invariably went back to Uno. It was familiar, comforting. He knew exactly how the game would go, and could even hear what Clint would say – because it was something they had done a hundred times before.

 _"You gotta keep those wild cards for the end, kid. That way you can do_ _this_ _!" Clint says, dropping his last card on the pile. "I win!"_

 _"That's not fair, you cheated!" Owen cries. He throws his cards on the floor between them, furious that the game ended so quickly._

 _"I said Uno, so I won fair and square. Stop pouting," Clint says, gathering up the cards._

 _"I'm not pouting," Owen mutters, definitely pouting. He looks around the cell and hugs himself. Clint notices his worried look._

 _"We'll break out of here, don't worry," he says, shuffling the cards._

 _"How? We don't have the key. They took your arrows, and you don't have a superpower like Captain America."_

 _Clint rolls his eyes, deals a new game._

 _"Would you rather sit around and wait to be rescued?" he asks. "They already know where we are. I gave you that shot, remember? SHIELD can find you anywhere, anytime. But we can get out of here sooner if you just use your head."_

Owen opened his eyes and looked around. He didn't see anything he could use on the shelves, just a bunch of broken junk, so he turned to inspect the bars. They were too close together for him to squeeze between them. Owen tried yanking the door open, but it was shut tight.

He sank to the floor, starting to cry. In his mind, Clint just shook his head.

 _"Come on, don't do that. Anyone can cry. Hell,_ _I_ _can cry, but it won't do us any good. What can you do that nobody else can do?"_

After a minute, Owen calmed down enough to try again. There was a long, skinny scrap of metal just outside of the cell, so he picked it up and tried to use it in the lock. No luck. He even tried to use it to pry the door open, but all that did was earn him a deep scratch on his arm. When the blood welled up, he threw the metal away and kicked at the door. It moved.

Clint's voice ringed in his ears.

 _"Now that's what I'm talking about."_


	17. A New Plan

Tony knew he was in deep shit. Despite his best efforts, the new body in the cradle wasn't going to be finished by the time his friend would be showing up to kill him.

That was a hard pill to swallow; knowing Bruce, or rather the Hulk, was fine with murdering him to get his son back. Granted, he understood that Bruce loved his children (and had made it abundantly clear his family came first), but Tony would have liked to hear that it was a struggle to make the choice.

The one consolation Tony had was that he hadn't asked Bruce to join him on his current secret mission. If he had, it probably would have made the murder plot happen much sooner. Then again, there was a chance he would have been finished by now with another pair of skilled hands to help him out. It took him way too long just to figure out _how_ to do the process because his expertise didn't cover bioorganics, so actually completing Ultron's body by uploading JARVIS was tricky without Bruce around.

As it was, Tony was alone with only his armor set to sentry mode and the body in the cradle to keep him company. After the Hulk alarms went off everyone cleared out of the tower to avoid becoming collateral damage. The annoying klaxon had been deactivated, but Tony couldn't disable the intermittent green flashes of light. That actually required human-Bruce's thumbprint and Tony didn't have the spare time to fake or override that piece of programming.

Truth be told, he kind of liked the green light. It added a sense of urgency to his work and made the artificial body a less horrific shade of pink.

 _I'll have to see about giving you a paint job when this is all over,_ he thought, spinning a few dials and checking his Hulk tracker. _Two minutes. You better be finished by then; I don't look forward to facing Bruce alone._

"You are not alone," a voice called from across the room.

Tony whipped his head up to see Wanda Maximoff standing in a shadowy corner. Not creepy at all.

"I told him you would do anything to make things right," she said, slowly walking closer to the cradle. Tony glanced around for the brother. "But he didn't believe me."

"And by 'him' you mean…" Tony trailed off, spotting the bleach job in a doorway across the room. One motion and his suit would come protect him, but was it fast enough to beat Maximoff?

"I mean your Captain. He was too busy thinking of stopping Ultron to remember why it exists in the first place," Wanda said.

"He was also too busy to give us a ride," Pietro muttered. Wanda ignored him.

She walked alongside the cradle and trailed a finger along its edge. Tony followed her on the opposite side, stepping closer to his armor.

"You made Ultron because you say this world needs protecting from those who would do it harm," she continued, now standing at the head of the cradle. She pressed her palms flat against the lid. "But Ultron does not know the difference between saving this world and destroying it. Where do you think he gets this?"

Tony rolled his eyes at her tilted head and intense expression. "No clue. Why don't you enlighten me?"

"I saw in your mind. Your greatest fear is being the cause of your friends' deaths, yet your creation is what endangers them most. And now, you think _this_ is the key to stopping Ultron? What if you are wrong again?"

Pietro stopped sulking and appeared at the foot of the cradle to look at its progress. He frowned, probably realizing the body was more complete than it had been in Seoul. Tony knew he had to distract them from interrupting the almost-complete process, but was at a loss for how to do it without getting mind controlled the moment he started speaking.

Fortunately – or perhaps unfortunately – Bruce chose that moment to make an appearance. The building rumbled as the giant crash-landed on the roof. The first line of Hulk defense was activated, causing steel plates to slide over the windows and walls and turn the penthouse into a secure box. The metal beams supporting the ceiling rattled from the force of its muffled but furious roar.

Tony donned his armor and watched the twins exchange a startled look.

"Stark, is the Hulk at the tower yet?" Steve asked through the coms. Tony checked the cradle one last time and headed for the balcony. 96% complete.

"I'm not sure. Let me check what's punching its way through the ceiling and get back to you on that."

"I'm less than five minutes away. Barton and Natasha are headed to Sokovia to try and get his son. It's just you and me."

"No lullaby?" Tony asked. His mind raced with how best to stop his friend without getting too close. Veronica had been mildly successful, but all the Hulkbuster parts were damaged beyond repair and there had been no time to make more.

Running away was sounding like the best option. That way he could lead Bruce away from civilians and towards Sokovia, where they both could reunite with their sons. But Tony saw that more than just flimsy ceiling tile was crumbling inside; chunks of concrete were beginning to fall directly on the cradle.

 _If it sustains too much damage, the body will be destroyed. Time for Plan B._

"Look, a distraction!" he shouted, flying to stand on the edge of the roof.

The Hulk turned, roared, and charged. Tony had no time to react. The Hulk slammed into him and they flew through the air together before plummeting down the side of the building.

Tony got an up-close look at the pure rage on his friend's face and felt the pressure build around his waist as the giant began squeezing him like a stress ball. The warnings piled up on his display – no back propulsion, left arm propulsion not functional, severe damage to midsection, limited breathing capabilities. There was no way of escaping the Hulk's hold on him, not unless Bruce could somehow take control and put an end to this. At this rate, though, he would suffocate before they hit the ground.

Suddenly, he was suspended in midair as the Hulk continued falling. Tony turned his head to look into the building and saw Wanda standing even with him in a boardroom, Pietro at her side. At a twitch of her arms he tore through the plate glass, sending shards across the room. Tony collapsed on the conference table and tried to get out of his armor so he could breathe again. He struggled in vain; the suit was crumpled like a tin can. He'd need a saw or the jaws or life to get –

The suit ripped itself apart and Tony gasped, finally able to catch his breath. Wanda dropped her hand and looked through the shattered window with her brother. From the sound of it, Tony guessed the Hulk had just hit street level and was starting to climb back up to get him.

He sat up and took an inventory, basked in the now solid Hulk warning lights. He had no suit. No friends. No hope. Unless the cradle had finished the body and –

"Rubble hit the cradle, the power cables," Wanda said over her shoulder. Her hair looked black under the green light. "Your project failed."

Tony's face fell. Nothing short of a bolt of lightning could resuscitate the body now.

"Son of a bitch," he said, tapping his earpiece. "Cap, you there?"

"Yeah, I'm close. I have a visual on the Hulk, but not you."

"I'm grounded. Bruce ruined the suit, so I'm playing hide and seek right now. Have we heard from Thor?"

"No, but I think–" Static washed over his voice, and the air crackled with electricity. Tony grinned. _About time something went right._

He hopped off of the table and brushed some of the glass from his clothes as the lights in the room flickered. Reluctantly, he turned to Pietro and waited for the sister to read his mind. Her eyes flicked to the ceiling, trying to see through to the top floor, and back to Tony's face. She said something in another language and her brother scooped her up and disappeared.

Tony looked around, scoffed, and began his walk to the elevators. _The least they could do is give me a lift,_ he thought moodily. _It's not like they'll understand what's going on up there. Besides, I'm the one with Jolly Green on my tail, not them._

As if on cue, the Hulk barreled through what was left of the window, scattering even more glass on the floor. Instead of charging, he stood there staring at Tony, who was frozen by the double doors. He still looked furious, but Tony thought there was a change in his eyes. He wasn't mindlessly tearing things apart – he was intelligent, calculating. Dangerous.

The Hulk effortlessly flipped the table out of his way and took slow steps forward, glaring at Tony.

 _This might be my only shot at getting him back._

"Bruce–" he began. The Hulk snarled, which made Tony jump, but he continued. "Bruce, I know what Ultron said. But your son is gonna be fine. We can figure this out, you and me. What do you say?"

By now the Hulk was only a few strides away, and from the nasty smirk on his face he wasn't planning on doing anything except throwing Tony back out the window.

Something whizzed by and hit the Hulk in the back of the head with a chair. He whirled around and grabbed at air, roaring again. Tony blinked and felt himself being thrown over someone's shoulder. Pietro ran up the stairwell faster than Tony had ever flown; he was certain he would have passed out or gotten sick if not for the endurance testing he had gone through while developing the various Iron Man suits.

When his feet touched the ground again, Tony wobbled uncertainly and threw out an arm. Thor caught it and held him steady.

"I see you have been busy in my absence. Where are the others? Banner should not be faced alone," he said, sounding concerned. Whether that concern was for Tony's wellbeing, his problematic project, or his current companions, he did not know.

"Cap's close," Tony replied curtly. He saw fried computers surrounding a now-destroyed cradle. But it looked like it had been ripped open from the inside, not crushed by falling concrete. "What the hell–"

"Here," Wanda called, her voice sounding strange.

Tony half ran to stand beside her and marvel at the naked man floating above their heads. After a moment, the android seemed to notice they were staring and drifted down to their level, forming a grey bodysuit to cover most of its exposed skin.

"I'm sorry," it began, looking to Thor. "That was… odd. Thank–"

The Hulk started pounding on the steel reinforcements protecting the penthouse, causing the pink guy to stop short. Thor turned on Tony.

"You've been _very_ busy. We will talk when I return," he said grimly. He went to leave when Hulk's head popped up through the floor like a whack a mole. Thor's war yell as he hit the mole with his hammer paled in comparison to the Hulk's enraged howl. When he popped up again, his fist came through the hole first to swat Thor out of the way.

Red eyes found Tony and widened in wild fury. He clambered up through the hole, and Tony felt himself being tossed over Pietro's bony shoulder again. This time when they stopped, Pietro stayed beside him. They watched the showdown from across the room. The Hulk was bewildered for a moment, so Wanda enveloped him in a red cloud.

 _Another nightmare. Bruce isn't gonna be happy when he wakes up._

The strangest thing happened then. When Wanda lowered her arms, the Hulk gently shook its head and looked at Tony almost sadly. Then the transformation began, and Tony didn't wait for Pietro to run back over and catch his friend before he collapsed on the floor.

 _That was a little anticlimactic,_ Tony thought, glancing at Wanda as he helped Bruce stagger over to a couch. _What the hell did you do?_

Bruce lay down, panting, and Tony grabbed some extra clothes from the lab. Thor was stretched out on the couch when he came back, and Pinky was perched on the edge beside him sporting a shiny new cape. It was a comical sight, but Tony had no time to appreciate it. After Bruce had slipped on the jeans and shirt Tony focused on getting his thumbprint in order to get some normal light going again.

"How's it going, buddy?" he asked, trying to get a read on his friend. Bruce rubbed his eyes and groaned. "Same here."

Steve came in through the balcony doors once the metal plating had retracted. If he thought they looked comical, he didn't show it. He gave the pink guy a wary look and approached the crowded couch.

"Thor, it's good to see you. And you, Dr. Banner," he said. Tony noticed him frown at the hole in the floor. He also noticed Steve didn't express any pleasure at seeing him. So be it.

"Good to see you too, Cap," Tony said sarcastically. He sat on the arm of the couch next to Bruce and lazily gestured to the android. "This is my grandson, Pinky. Pink, this is Cap."

Both Pinky and Cap gave him an annoyed look. Steve voiced his displeasure. "So you went ahead and completed Ultron's body. What gives you the authority to–"

"Authority?" Tony scoffed. "You mean _permission,_ as in _your_ permission."

"Enough," Thor said, though with less zest than usual. He stood slowly and grimaced. "What's done is done. I have returned to tell you about the vision I had. It centered on this stone."

He pointed to the gem embedded in Pinky's forehead. "It's the Mind Stone. It's one of the six Infinity Stones; the greatest power in the universe, unparalleled in its destructive capabilities."

"And you think giving it to Ultron's offshoot is a good idea?" Steve asked, eyebrow raised.

"You think I'm a child of Ultron?" Pinky asked. Tony realized it sounded just like JARVIS; it hit him harder than he expected to see a semi-living Jarvis walking and breathing again.

"You're not?"

"I'm not Ultron. I'm not JARVIS. I am…" It paused and looked at Tony. "I am."

"So whose side are you on?" Pietro asked, appearing beside Steve. Steve was surprised to see him but said nothing, wanting to hear the android's response. It considered the question long enough to make Tony uneasy.

"I'm on the side of life," it said finally. Tony silently sighed in relief. "Ultron isn't. He will end it all."

"What's he waiting for?" Tony asked, already knowing the answer.

"You."

"You _dead_ ," Bruce mumbled. He was still curled up on his side on the couch, but at least he was speaking complete sentences. Well, complete words. Tony took it as a good sign.

"Right, me dead. So how are we gonna pull that off?" Steve half-smiled, as if remembering something. "Cap, you have something to share with the class?"

Steve met his gaze and fully smiled. "I have a plan."


	18. Complications

"Are you sure this will work?" Bruce asked uneasily, his gloved hand resting on a syringe.

"Fury recovered completely after using the serum, so why shouldn't Tony?" Steve replied.

Steve's plan wasn't bad, as far as plans went, but it wasn't particularly good, either. Bruce didn't like these rushed preparations on a random rooftop in Munich, or having to do the injection on one of Tony's private jets, or relying on the new android "Vision" to help carry out the deception. He especially didn't like doing all these things before the sun even rose; the darkness concealed their actions, sure, but it could be hiding Ultron just as easily.

Fury had met them on the rooftop to swap ideas and get supplies. It was a brief visit. Steve and Fury discussed the plan and SHIELD's supplemental role, Maria Hill told Bruce how to administer the heart-slowing serum without killing Tony, Tony complained loudly, and the Maximoffs, supervised by Thor and his Vision, were still hanging back in an old plane they stole in Seoul.

"Why did nobody inform me that Nick was not dead?" Tony complained again, easing himself into the damaged Iron Man suit laid out on the floor by the bar. "With SHIELD's massive information leak, you'd think _that_ detail would have made it to the press."

Steve ignored him and continued looking out the side windows to check on the "borrowed" pilot the Maximoffs were reprogramming in a cloud of red mist. After a moment he turned and climbed down the steps, leaving Tony and Bruce alone.

Bruce ran through Maria's directions one last time before picking up the medical kit. If he just focused on one step of the plan at a time and didn't think about anything else, he could almost keep his hands from shaking.

Tony was still rambling on when he knelt down and began preparing the injection. Bruce recognized it as nervous chatter and thought of things he could say to ease the tension. He couldn't summon any meaningless remarks, but there was something he needed to get off of his chest.

"Tony, I'm sorry that–"

"Sorry? Don't be ridiculous," Tony scoffed. "If anyone's to blame for the lack of olives on this plane, it's probably me; and since everything I do wrong is 12% Pepper's responsibility, I will just inform her that she needs to foresee problems that may arise and act accordingly, as she always does."

He reached out an arm to look through bottles on a low shelf under the bar. Tony clearly wanted to drop the subject, but Bruce tried again.

"No, I mean–" he began. Tony sighed loudly and interrupted him again, though with less bravado than before.

"I always like to forgive and forget, emphasis on _forget_ , over a round of drinks but we can't because there are no olives left over from my trip to Oaxaca last month." He stopped his search for olives and looked at Bruce. "I know how bad you feel, but if we sit here apologizing for the things we've done, it will take all day."

Bruce was silent. A full apology _would_ take all day, and there was no time for it now.

"I just want you to know that I haven't taken our friendship lightly," Bruce said quietly.

It was Tony's turn to be silent. Bruce tuned out conversations he could overhear outside to focus on finding a vein in Tony's arm and cleaning the injection site. He would have to wait for Steve's signal to actually give the injection, but he prepared as much as he could. Every minute would count if they were going to pull this plan off without losing anyone.

Steve's voice rang through the comms. "Thor is in place and gave us the all clear. We're taking off now so I'll start the countdown in exactly three minutes. Are you ready?"

"Just tell me when," Bruce replied. He checked his new watch, compliments of Tony's airline wardrobe, and took a deep breath.

Three minutes was how much of a head start the stolen plane would need to convey the others to the edge of Sokovia before Bruce could give the injection and go directly to the church. He had an hour at most to bring Tony back with the adrenaline cocktail; any longer and they would risk stopping his heart permanently.

"Any last words?" Bruce asked.

"I regret nothing," Tony quipped. "Well, that's not quite true; I regret a lot of things. I'm predicting _this_ will be one of those things." A faint smile crossed Bruce's face.

"I've tried to kill you three times now, yet here you are letting me try a fourth."

"All you had to do was ask. This is what friends do! Let friends use experimental drugs to trick murder bots into releasing their kidnapped children."

Bruce's smile faded. "You need better friends," he muttered.

"We'll get him back. Everything is going to be… not fine, but less screwed up. Hopefully."

"Starting the clock in twenty seconds," Steve chimed in. A moment later Vision climbed into the plane and closed the door. After glancing at the floor party, he continued on to the cockpit to start the plane.

Bruce felt uneasy about the plan again.

"Are you sure about this, Tony?" he asked. So much was riding on every detail going perfectly that he felt certain they were going to fail.

"Pinky knows what he's doing. FRIDAY is controlling this," he knocked on the crushed helmet resting near his head, "and my backup suit, so no worries there. I've got my best friend, a brilliant scientist and doctor, taking my life in his very capable hands. Plus I get to sleep through the whole thing. Who could be better off than me in this scenario?"

"Time," Steve said, preventing Bruce's reply. "Take off and give Stark the shot."

Vision complied and began their short flight. Bruce, after waiting for Tony to nod in readiness, inserted the needle and gently pushed the plunger. The serum worked gradually to slow the heart, but it induced a coma almost immediately to preserve normal brain functions.

Tony fought unconsciousness long enough for one last remark and Bruce put on the stethoscope to listen as his heart slowed almost to a stop. Then he put the adrenaline shot in his pocket, stashed the medical kit, and took over the flight controls so Vision could do his part.

Bruce couldn't watch but he listened as the android bent the projecting shards of Tony's suit to look like he died from being crushed by the Hulk. According to Tony, that's what almost happened anyways, so it was bound to look convincing to Ultron. When the last piece groaned into place, Vision returned to the cockpit and watched the sun begin to rise over the mountains of Sokovia.

Bruce checked his watch one last time as he neared the center of the city. The plane landed itself and he tapped his earpiece.

"We're here and there's about forty minutes left to revive Tony. Steve, how does it look on your end?"

"Ultron just realized you arrived; there are fifteen drones headed your way. That cloaking mode seems to work, so Stark should be pleased when he wakes up. Forty-two minutes, four seconds on the clock. Let's make them count."

Bruce spotted the robots and powered down the jet. He checked on the spare Iron Man suit hidden behind a curtain before opening the plane door to lower the steps. This next part wasn't going to be easy.

He took in at Tony's crumpled armor and his sleeping face. _If the Maximoffs hadn't been there to interfere at the tower_ , Bruce thought somberly, _this is how he would have died. This is how he would have looked when I woke up._

The drone scouts landed in a perfect circle around the jet. Bruce wiped his face and carefully slid the helmet over Tony's head. As he lifted his friend's motionless body up and out of the plane, his last words – his true last words – filled his head.

"I trust you."

 _I hope you don't live to regret those words, Tony._ He looked around at the expressionless metallic faces surrounding them. _I've got a bad feeling about this._

* * *

Abigail sat restlessly in her seat, bouncing her foot to try and dispel some of the nervous energy she was feeling. The jet Coulson sent her on was filled with medics and armed agents. She was surprised that SHIELD still had so many employees after the whole HYDRA debacle, but in this case the more agents, the better. They would have their hands full evacuating residents before the final confrontation.

The woman next to her smiled and patted her leg. Coulson had introduced them and filled the woman in on Abigail's (and now her) unofficial mission, but her name was forgotten almost immediately. It was something old timey, like Martha or Cheryl.

At the moment Abigail was too focused on the directions to get through the fortress hiding Owen to think about anything else. The thing on her wrist would point a straight path and show how far away he was, but since she couldn't smash through walls with ease Coulson had had to tell her how to navigate the building. There were a lot of twists and turns and even a secret door to pass just to find him; getting him out would be even harder.

She considered getting captured just so she would see Owen sooner, but there was no knowing what Ultron would do to her – or him – if that happened. To torture _her_ Ultron would torture Owen, and to torture _Bruce_ Ultron would probably kill one (or both) of them. It wasn't worth the risk.

The stealth jet landed outside of the town. When the ramp lowered, cold air rushed in and stole Abigail's breath. It was dark, but there was the slightest hint of sun on the horizon – just enough to see the dark outline of Ultron's fortress towering above the treeline.

The agents were supposed to begin the evacuation as quietly as possible, starting with the outlying homes and working towards the center of the city where the inevitable showdown would occur, avoiding detection for as long as possible. Abigail and Cheryl had their own mission to infiltrate the fortress and gain intel on Ultron while rescuing Owen.

While everyone else silently marched out of the jet and toward a rally point, her companion led the way as they quickly but carefully traversed the forest surrounding the building. They came across destroyed gun turrets and Abigail recognized the Avengers' handiwork. They also came across a few other casualties of the battle, but Abigail tried not to look at those too much.

She surreptitiously checked the GPS watch and her heart leapt to see they were so close to Owen. With any luck she would be seeing her son in just a few minutes, knock on wood. Out of habit, she reached out and tapped on a tree as she passed.

That was a mistake.

A dozen or more robots flew out of the fortress and headed for the forest. Cheryl grabbed Abigail's arm and crouched low. They fanned out into a V shape and flew quickly above the trees, seeming to scan the area as they went.

Cheryl swore and began thinking aloud for how to blend in and hide their heat signature before the robots reached them. Abigail noticed another group of robots head in the opposite direction to do the same, which likely meant this was a routine security measure. She pointed this out to Cheryl.

"A scan is a scan," she replied in a whisper. She pulled Abigail along to a gun turret that still had two walls intact before searching the ground for something to drag back as cover. That something turned out to be a cold, dead body. "Unless we hide, Ultron will find out we're here soon enough."

It was a long time before Cheryl decided it was safe to leave their hiding spot. They had watched the robots fly overhead away from the fortress, but the patrol never returned to base. It was strange, but since it didn't feel like a trap they continued the mission.

Abigail was haunted by the dead man. His rigid body, his bloody uniform, his terrified face – it all kept popping up in her mind as they came closer and closer to the building. He had had a life, a family, friends, _a_ _name_. And now that was all lost.

"Is your name Cheryl?" Abigail asked urgently. The question caught the other woman by surprise.

"No, it's Carol," she replied. They crouched near the edge of the forest to scope out the building. Carol thought for a second and nodded in understanding. "When this is over, SHIELD will collect all the casualties and notify their loved ones."

Abigail nodded and tried to shake off the bad feelings the dead man had given her, but it was no use. He would be appearing in her nightmares for years to come, no doubt about that.

"Do you remember the plan?" Carol asked, pulling out a gun from inside her coat.

Abigail nodded again and summarized Coulson's detailed strategy. "Sneak in, grab Owen, sneak out, blow it up."

Carol grinned, handing over a gun once she checked the clip. Abigail knew the "blow it up" explosives were concealed somewhere else in the thick coat.

"Are you ready?" Carol asked. She checked her own gun one last time and searched Abigail's face for signs that she wasn't.

 _I'm ready to see Owen,_ Abigail thought. _Ready to be with my family. Ready to get my life back. Ready for this nightmare to be over._

She nodded mutely, glaring at the building imprisoning her son. Yeah, she was ready.

Carol stood and hurried up a ramp to the nearest door. Abigail followed close behind. The door was unlocked, and it opened soundlessly. They slipped inside.

As the door shut behind them, another part of the fortress exploded.

* * *

"That is _not_ a plan," Clint stated. He and Natasha were hovering high above Sokovia, waiting for the SHIELD jets to arrive. They only had two minutes so quick preparations and even quicker thinking were needed if they wanted to save Owen.

"Well what do you suggest we do then?" she asked, continuing to clip grenades on her belt. Clint grabbed a few arrow packs and secured them to his boots.

"Anything but that," he mumbled, slipping on a light but warm jacket.

"It will work. All you have to do is distract Ultron long enough for–"

"It's stupid."

"That's why it'll work!"

"I veto the plan," Clint said, returning to the pilot's seat. "We are not doing that. It's Stark-level stupidity. Have you noticed how stupid he's been lately?"

Natasha stood behind him and laid a firm hand on his shoulder.

"It's stupid, and we're doing it. For Fez."

Clint shook his head. _Fucking Fez._

"I can't believe you're cashing in Fez for this. I expected an actual favor, like 'Help fumigate my apartment,' or 'Let's get matching pedis!' but _this_?"

"Look at it this way," she said, sitting in her seat and turning off the autopilot. "If we live, you can use Sokovia against me later."

"Yeah, big if," Clint muttered. He took control and flew fast over the fortress. Sure enough fifteen drones poured out to pursue them. SHIELD had landed, so those agents would need this distraction to keep Ultron from attacking.

" _If_ we live it's gonna be a big favor, too," Clint continued, easily outstripping the drones. "And I mean big. Not babysitting or rewiring the surround sound, but something really…"

Clint trailed off as he noticed two blips on the ground headed toward the fortress. That wasn't part of SHIELD's mission. Who would be stupid enough to go straight for Ultron? Who would risk getting caught to save–

"Abbey, you beautiful idiot," Natasha whispered almost admiringly.

Clint suddenly understood the necessity of sticking to the plan. He knew Abigail. He knew her children. He wasn't about to let Michael and Sophie lose their brother or their mom if he could help it.

With a frustrated huff Clint flew faster to lead the line of drones far from the forest. When they were above the nearby mountains, Natasha began the attack. Most of them were either blown up in the first barrage of missiles or smashed to pieces by the mountain peaks. Two attempted to return to the fortress.

 _Not a chance_ , Clint thought, hot on their trail. He sent out a dozen missiles to track them. Natasha gave him a look at the excessive firepower but said nothing. The first drone was destroyed almost immediately. The other, however, outmaneuvered the missiles and continued to the fortress.

Clint calculated the amount of time it would take Abigail and her companion to reach the fortress, considered how big of a distraction SHIELD would need, and wildly guessed how much longer it would be before the others would arrive. Then he thought _screw it_ and just sent the largest rocket they had.

The rocket pierced through the drone and continued its path toward an empty wing of the fortress, far from the section containing Owen. The explosion could be seen from everywhere in the city.

"There's your distraction! We're going through with your stupid plan. Are you happy?" Clint asked sarcastically. He glanced at Natasha and saw that, for a brief moment, she was happy.

Until a new swarm of drones attacked the jet and they started plummeting towards the ground, that is.

* * *

Abigail was terrified. The explosion had wiped her mind of Coulson's plan and of his directions and left room for only one thought: find her baby.

Carol ran behind, half-shouting when and where to turn since she couldn't take the lead. After the initial explosion there was a loud commotion coming from the center of the fortress, which meant there was no need to keep their voices down. Abigail ran as fast as she could, willing herself to go faster, hoping she wouldn't be too late.

After body slamming the secret door open, Abigail recklessly sprinted down a long tunnel. Before they reached the end, though, Carol yanked her back and pressed her flat against the wall.

"We are not going in guns blazing," Carol scolded, tightening her grip on Abigail's coat when she struggled. " _I_ will lead the way and decide on the safest course of action. Understood?"

Abigail's desperation had turned to anger when she was forced to stop so close to her son, but all the initial anxiety returned when she heard sobs echoing from somewhere nearby. Carol instantly loosened her grip, raised her gun, and led the way to a large, dark cavern. She paused just outside the doorway, but Abigail ran to the middle of the dark room and shouted Owen's name.

"Mommy!" he screamed back. She ran in the direction of his voice, tripping over unseen steps and scraping up her palms. "Mommy, help me!"

She crashed into the bars of his cell and saw nothing - nothing but two red eyes. Ultron continued using Owen's voice.

"You didn't think it would be that easy, did you?"


	19. There's No Place Like Home

Bruce paused at the bottom of the jet's staircase. When the drones remained motionless, he walked the short distance into the cathedral and laid Tony down on the central plinth. The thud of the armor echoed in the still morning air. Ultron's drones shifted their circle to surround the outside of the rundown building and seemingly turned to stone. They stood as silent guards, not engaging but leaving no room for escape.

So, Ultron was going to make this a personal visit. Hopefully it wouldn't take too long – Tony's heart could only beat undetected for so long before actually stopping. Minutes ticked by and Bruce heard explosions in the distance, and though they were beyond his sight he knew it had to be from Clint and Natasha. It certainly wasn't part of Steve's plan, and SHIELD knew not to directly interfere, so there was nobody else left to do something that reckless.

A tower of the fortress exploded and Bruce felt his heart racing. _Was that explosion meant to happen? Is Owen still in there?_ One of the drones finally spoke.

"You didn't say you were bringing company," it said, annoyed. "They should join us and explain why they're interfering with your well thought out plan."

Through the smoke of the smoldering tower he saw the Quinjet glide to the ground, guided by drones crawling all over and under it. It soared closer and closer, raking the tops of the higher buildings until finally it hit the ground and skidded to a deafening stop in the street in front of the cathedral.

The residents had woken up at the first explosions and were now out of bed to see why a jet crashed in the middle of their town. A few of the drones raided the jet but the others, including Bruce's ring of guards, began shooting the nearest homes and effectively causing a stampede.

Clint and Natasha walked, or rather limped out from behind the jet to stand a short distance away from Bruce with their escorts. If they were surprised to see the crushed Iron Man suit they didn't show it. There had been no way to securely contact them about the new plan, so they didn't know about the serum. Or Vision. Or the Maximoffs.

Everyone looked up as Ultron's master form finally flew in to land with a foot poised on Tony's chest, like a hunter with his trophy kill. "I'm sure improvisation usually works for you two, but this is _my_ arena. You took a serious risk with someone else's prize. A prize, I'm sure, he would like to collect undamaged."

Bruce's mouth was dry. He swallowed and hoarsely replied to Ultron's thinly veiled threat. "I brought you Tony, now give me my son."

"Well, a deal is a deal. You held up your end of the bargain, so I suppose I should hold up mine..."

It waved its hand and a drone emerged from behind a pillar with its arms wrapped around Owen. Before Bruce could take a step the church was filled with a sickening groan – the same groan he heard when Vision reshaped the suit on the plane.

"You disappoint me, Bruce. Did you really think you could fool me with this?" Ultron asked, carefully pressing a metal shard closer to Tony's heart with its foot. "His heart may be slow but I can still hear it beating. I asked for Stark's corpse, yet you bring him to me still alive. So what should I do with your son, who I promised to deliver unharmed?"

Bruce shook with rage. He could transform in the blink of an eye and rip that drone apart without harming a hair on Owen's head, but it wouldn't be fast enough.

"I'm just kidding," Ultron said with a laugh. The laughter was more unsettling than the peoples' screams in the distance. "You've given me a gift! I get to kill Tony Stark any way I want. So for that, I'm giving _you_ a gift: a choice."

A chill ran up Bruce's spine. He saw Natasha's cold mask crack as she figured out Ultron's meaning, but he couldn't think.

"You can choose to save your son… or your wife."

Abigail was fighting the two drones that were now hauling her up the stairs, trying furiously to free her arms from their viselike grip.

Bruce was speechless but Owen screamed "Mommy!" and gave Abigail new strength. She actually broke free from one of the drones before Ultron walked over and lifted her by the throat.

"This seems familiar," it said, carrying Abigail to the pillar a few spaces past her son. "Oh, I remember now. This is what happened last time we met. You fought me, I choked you, and then I took your son away."

Ultron let her drop but the drones quickly picked her up and pinned her to the pillar. It returned to stand with a foot on Tony's chest as Abigail coughed violently. Bruce took slow and careful steps past Ultron to check on her, using all his strength to keep from changing into the other guy.

The drones did nothing to stop him. In fact, it seemed like Ultron wanted to watch them together. He cupped her face in his hands and asked the question that had been torturing him.

"Sophie, is she–"

"Alive! She pulled through, her and Michael are safe," Abigail rasped. Relief washed over him and he even managed a small laugh. _She's alive!_ Bruce was so overcome by happiness that he forgot for just a moment that the fight had not even begun. His wife's voice brought him back to reality. "Bruce, you have to choose Owen."

Bruce looked at her face and saw the fear in her eyes. Rage swelled up in his chest and he turned to look at Ultron, then at Tony. He made a quick decision.

"I'm getting you _both_ out of here. I'm tired of playing games," Bruce whispered darkly.

"Tired of playing games?" Ultron questioned. It tilted its head and crushed Tony's suit further. "We're just getting started."

Bruce fully expected FRIDAY's emergency protocols to activate and fly Tony out of the church. He _didn't_ expect the explosion that tore apart the Quinjet.

* * *

Natasha's leg wasn't hurt as bad as Clint's, but she still played up the limp to conceal the detonator she had shoved in her boot before the jet was boarded. She wanted nothing more than to trigger a grenade on the jet with a click of her heels and take out the few drones still searching the cabin, but that idea was temporarily scrapped when she saw Tony on the ground in mangled armor.

He looked dead. If he met the Hulk head-on in New York there was a good chance he really was dead. But Bruce's body language was more nervous than distraught, which made Natasha suspect it was just a ploy to distract Ultron. Alive or dead the suit would still protect him, so Natasha was again ready to detonate until Owen was brought out.

If Ultron still had Owen, then Abbey either didn't make it to the fortress or had been captured inside. Natasha refused to believe she had been killed; Ultron wouldn't waste an added opportunity to break Bruce. Her hunch proved right when they dragged Abigail out and Bruce nearly lost control.

Natasha _then_ considered setting off the bomb while Ultron gloated some more, but Clint caught her eye and shook his head, staring intently over her shoulder at the jet or something near it. The drones guarding them looked in the same direction but found nothing.

Natasha frowned. This was taking too long. If Ultron wanted to simply kill everyone, he would have done so already. If he wanted to torture them, they should be screaming in pain. This was something else. This was _wrong_. A robot – no, simply a program – manipulating humans to put them through mental and emotional anguish was sickening.

She had witnessed, experienced, and inflicted this kind of pain before and Natasha shivered at the memories. This had to stop.

Without warning Clint muttered, "There's no place like home." Natasha smirked and clicked her heels.

Nothing happened.

She did it again.

Still nothing happened.

Finally Natasha stomped her foot and was yanked to the ground by Clint a split second before a series of grenades detonated in the back of the Quinjet. Once the rubble stopped raining down she looked up to see one hell of a sight.

Tony was gone. Owen was gone. A pink man had its hands on Ultron's head and Abbey fled as the rest of the drones poured in to attack the newcomer. Bruce was starting to transform but he threw something in her direction before going completely green.

Clint reached out and passed it to her. It was an adrenaline shot, the same kind used on Fury to counteract the heart-slowing serum. _So that's how they did it,_ she thought, switching it out with the detonator in her boot.

Steve spoke in her ear. "Take Abigail and head east. Stark is at a plane that will take her and her son to safety. You _need_ to give him that shot in the next ten minutes."

Natasha looked over at Clint. His leg was in bad shape. She helped him stand and considered staying until he shook his head. She placed the detonator in his hand, bringing a frown to his face, and confirmed her orders with Steve.

"They're on a delay, you know. You only had to click once!" Clint complained as she ran after Abigail. She could readily imagine the rest of his complaints about the damage to his jet without having to hear them.

What she didn't have to imagine was his reaction to the city breaking apart and flying in the air. His "What the hell?!" was audible even ten blocks away.

* * *

Pietro paced the length of the small charter plane as slowly as he could, feeling Wanda's eyes on him at all times. Despite being the best equipped to face Ultron, the Maximoffs were on backup duty, stuck waiting on the plane until something went wrong. Pietro knew something would eventually go wrong, but he hated waiting.

With a sigh he threw himself across a row of seats and looked up at the roof of the plane. Wanda sat down in the row in front of him.

"Be patient, Pietro. Our time will come," she said quietly. She brushed a curl of hair away from his eyes so she could see them clearly.

He impatiently sighed again. This was their fight; they knew the town, knew Ultron's plans, and knew the fortress. The only thing Pietro didn't know was why they had to wait for so long.

"We are not Avengers," Wanda replied. "They do not trust us. We must look at the bigger picture and–"

"Bigger picture?" Pietro sat up and scowled at his sister. "And what about our little picture? Our family, our life, are we to just leave it all behind and forget what Tony Stark did to us?"

Wanda returned his glare. "If we die today there will be no picture big _or_ little. Whatever happens, we must survive this day. I could not stand to lose you."

Pietro relented under her worried stare and held out his hand. She held it in both of hers, squeezing it tightly, and smiled at his unvoiced apology. They never quarreled for long. Even if they had, it would have been cut short this time.

"Ultron knows our play. I need backup here now; they took Banner's son _and_ wife hostage," Steve said over the comms.

Pietro wordlessly picked up Wanda and darted between screaming people to get to the lookout point. He kept to back alleys and made it to Steve's side in under a minute. The lookout point was a vacant apartment on the sixth floor of the building across the street from the church, which meant they could see inside through the damaged roof and watch everything unfold without being spotted.

Steve held out his binoculars and Pietro took them. He could see Ultron and Tony in the center with everyone else spread out like marks on a clock face: Bruce was at the three, the wife at six, the son at nine, and at twelve were Clint and Natasha. A dozen robots positioned in a circle outside the building completed the clock.

"Ultron always admired symmetry," Wanda muttered, examining the scene through her brother's eyes.

Pietro looked around and saw people still fleeing in the distance. _Too bad there's nowhere safe for them to run to,_ he thought irritably. Refocusing on the church, he noticed the damaged Quinjet and Tony's plane, the latter of which was positioned between the building they were in and the church.

"Why is the Vision not acting?" he asked, trying to point out an obvious answer to their current problem.

"Because that's not his job," Steve replied.

Pietro huffed and looked through the binoculars again. He stared at the blonde little boy struggling to return to his family. He was very aware that Wanda was reading his mind and likely to stop him if he focused too much on the idea, so without really thinking it through Pietro ran down to hide next to the Quinjet.

Here he was on the exact opposite side of the church and had a different, albeit obstructed, viewpoint of the clock. It wasn't safe for him to speak over the comms at anything more than a whisper, but that didn't keep his sister from demanding he return to the lookout.

Pietro ignored her, peeking around the side of the jet to see that he was very near Clint and Natasha. _Perfect_.

"You didn't see that coming?" he whispered, hoping Clint would hear and understand his meaning.

Clint raised his chin slightly to confirm he did and glanced around until he found Pietro. He gave a signal to Natasha but Pietro hid himself from view to avoid detection.

 _This_ was the kind of waiting he could do. Being in the middle of the battlefield, on the brink of a fight was the only time he could stand still for any length of time. He looked in the church and made his plan quickly. He would disable the drones holding the wife and continue on to take the boy out to safety. They wouldn't know what hit them until he was already gone, and by that time Steve's plan could really begin.

"There's no place like home," Clint said.

Pietro took that as a signal and ran. He heard explosions go off slowly as he ripped the robots' arms out of their sockets to free the woman. The robot holding the boy had begun to tighten its grip but Pietro just shook his head. He pulled this one's arms out too, easily catching the boy before he could fall an inch, and bolted from the church.

With no better place in mind, he returned to his sister and Steve. Wanda was relieved to have him back. Pietro decided to keep holding the boy just in case he needed to carry him somewhere else, but he shifted his hold on him to free a hand for her to grasp.

The boy blinked repeatedly and looked around to try and figure out what happened to him.

"It is disorienting at first, but your mind will soon catch up my little friend," Pietro said reassuringly. The boy focused on his face and blinked more.

Steve's eyes were glued to the scene below but he spoke without sounding distracted. "You're safe now, Owen. These people are gonna help get you and your mom out of here."

Owen turned to stare at Steve before looking back up at Pietro.

"You're fast," he gasped, clinging to Pietro's shirt.

Pietro nodded proudly. "Very fast."

"Well, 'very fast' needs to go. Natasha is going to lead Abigail to the plane and will need you to show the way," Steve said. He gave Natasha an order and Pietro rolled his eyes at the time limit. They would reach Tony in two minutes even at a slow pace, so there was no real hurry.

"You wanted to run, so run," Wanda chided him. She chose not to comment on his other thoughts concerning Tony Stark.

He looked at Owen and quietly told him to hold on and close his eyes. Once his eyes were shut, Pietro took off and soon found Abigail. With tears streaming down her face she took Owen in her arms and hugged him tightly.

Pietro gave them a little space. That they both escaped from Ultron relatively unharmed was a miracle, and he let them enjoy it in private. Natasha found them quickly, though, so the group continued towards the stolen plane until the ground started shaking.

"Earthquake?" Abigail asked hopefully. Owen whimpered.

Pietro shook his head. "Ultron."

Suddenly they were flung to the ground as a section of the city broke free from the earth and shot up into the sky. Pietro's earpiece was flooded with voices but he only understood Clint's exclamation of "What the hell?!"

Finally Steve took control. "Enough! Ultron is going to send this rock back down to trigger a planet wide massacre. We need to get all civilians to safety and figure out how to disable this device. Stark, I need you in the church now. Tony, do you read me?"

Natasha and Pietro's eyes met and looked in the original direction of the plane and Tony – both of which were now 10,000 feet below them.

"Mr. Stark is still unconscious," FRIDAY replied. "Should I bring him up to you?"

A familiar voice prevented Steve's answer. "No, allow me."


End file.
